Providing Leverage
by CharFire
Summary: A collection of one shots featuring everyone's favorite thieves. (Inspiration comes from Anime Girl 23) Centered around Eliot and Parker
1. How It Begins

**A/N: I absolutely love Leverage and I decided I would take a shot at writing it. This is my first Leverage fic, and it will mainly be a series of related one-shots.**

 **Anime Girl23 has given me permission to take inspiration from her Leverage story, "50 Sentences". She has allowed me to turn prompts from her story into actual scenes and a story. So a big thank you to Anime Girl23! I'm so very excited to write this story.**

 **Please review and enjoy!**

Parker eyed the distraught couple in front of her with blank interest. On the outside, it looked as though she was listening intently and with some vague air of concern for their problems. That's what you were supposed to do, right? Pretend like you care, like their problems matter, until you reach your endgame and disappear. For her, it was the money from this job and the next and the next, ooh and the next… Just the thought all that payout made her feel giddy and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged on her lips.

A small cough behind her brought her back away from thoughts of swimming in a pool of cash and back to the room with a grieving couple who had no where left to turn and the four other thieves gone from bad to good. That's what they were, right? Good. Well, technically, bad guys who did bad things to help good people. That still qualifies as good, right?

The couple was still pouring out their story to the man at the front: Nathan Ford. Parker let her eyes rest on the back of his head, studying all she couldn't see and understand. That was her only flaw if she had any. (Several people, including the hitter standing behind her, might beg to differ, that her major flaws might include her lack of fear and overabundance of recklessness but really, those were assets in her profession). But Parker just didn't get people. All those emotions and thoughts and feelings and complexity and reactions to things that just confused her. That was why she worked alone. Nothing confusing or complex about bypassing security to break into a Castleman Acess Vault for a priceless nomad diamond. In and out in forty minutes and home free with more money to add to her collection. But these people in front of her…

Nathan Ford. Clearly an alcoholic, but a functioning one at that. They were not friends, no Nate had made that clear that he was above them, that he wasn't one of them. But here he was, a part of this…well whatever this was supposed to be. A business? A team? A team. Yeah, that's what it was. Parker suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes bright as her mind caught onto this new and exciting idea. A team. Yes…

Nathan Ford. Parker looked at the man with new thought. This man had gotten them in and out, them, a bunch of loner, high profile thieves and somehow gotten them all to love what they had done enough to stay together. He was their leader, their mastermind. A drunken genius. Maybe that's the only genius worth being.

Her gaze trailed over to the woman sitting on the arm of Nate's chair. Unlike Parker, she was actually listening to the teary couple, studying them, knowing them. She looked so normal, probably the only one out of the five of them. But Parker knew that Ms. Sophie Deveraux was full of surprises. Her acting on the stage may be utterly revolting, but her grifting and behaviorist skills were to be admired. (Though it wasn't quite as cool as rappelling off of a the Empire State Building). Sophie was their grifter, their second in command. She would keep them level when everything else…well, went to hell.

And then there was the man sitting next to her, Alec Hardison, the hacker. Parker had to admit, his skills were good. But damn was he geeky! He seemed naïve, but obviously very, very smart. And he had his own bag of tricks that Parker knew could be very entertaining. Alright, so he was their hacker, their Mission Control.

The fourth member of their newfound team was standing behind her, and while Parker didn't really know many social graces, she did know that turning her back on a client they were seeing wasn't a good mark on their record. But Eliot Spencer…he was a man of mystery. He was well built, muscular, and he could take down six men in under ninety seconds. He was a first class hitter, one of the best in the world. He was also the best at keeping his life very, very secret. Although they all hadn't known each other long, Parker already knew more about the others than she did Eliot. All she knew for sure is that he was clearly a southern cowboy and that he had many, many secrets to hide. But he wanted to be here right? Otherwise he would have left. No, he was their hitter, their backup.

"People like that..corporations like that….that have all the money."

It took a moment for Parker to realize that Nate had started talking now, that he was explaining what they do. Their team. A team she was a part of. Parker knew what she could do. They all knew what she could do. She liked to consider herself a bit of an eccentric legend. She was the thief.

"They have all the power and they use it to make people like you go away."

Parker nodded, her eyes becoming steely and cold.

"Right now you are suffering under an enormous weight."

It took all of her self -control not to start humming some sort of action music as a sort of build up. As it was, the music was drumming through her mind, giving her adrenalin a soundtrack. Maybe she could ask Hardison to burn a cd for her for moments like these…

"We provide…"

This time, Parker did turn around to face him. Eliot caught her eye, and while his face remained stoic and serious, there was a gleam in his blue eyes that made her stomach feel like it did when she jumped out a window. This was going to be fun.

"Leverage."


	2. I Know

**A/N: This is set after The 12 Step Job in Season 1. This will include spoilers for that episode. I do not own Leverage or the entertainingly complex characters. Inspiration comes from Anime Girl 23.**

It was like waking up from a fever dream. She could remember everything that happened in that week in the rehab center, even though things had become a little fuzzy around the edges, as if she had been underwater. She remembered the not-so-fake therapy, Nate and Sophie arguing, the men with the guns, Nate's escape, being released and the whole time feeling….happy.

Those pills had not made her forget. But she wished she could.

Parker sat with her knees curled up to her chest on the couch in the sitting room of the Leverage office. Their office really was quite comfy. Nate and Hardison had gone all out in making the area a real work space but also creatively comfortable for the times when there wouldn't be a chance for them to go home for the night. Not that her warehouse was anywhere as comfortable as here.

So here she was, alone in the dark, scared, quiet, sad, and going through withdrawal.

The pills had worn off finally a few hours ago, and that's when the tremors had started. She had never, ever taken drugs before in her life, so the come down after the high had been terrifying. Like jumping off a building to realize that the cord keeping you safe had snapped and you were freefalling. This was like that nightmare. That lovely, floating happy feeling had faded and now all Parker felt was…empty. Like she wasn't feeling anything at all. And that scared her.

Parker wasn't sure how long she sat like that. Probably a little over two hours. Everyone else had left hours ago, leaving her in her happy stupor. They each had a comfy, cozy place to call home, a place they could relax and unwind. Parker didn't know what the others did in their free time, but it wasn't that hard to guess. Online shopping, video games, drinking, and probably beating the crap out of someone. On any other night, she'd be out, rappelling off of building after building like some sort of perky Spiderman, swinging by the others places to see if anyone was interested to hang out. Usually someone was (Hardison being the most enthusiastic). But not tonight. Tonight she was alone and shivering and wondering how she was going to face the others tomorrow that she had been hooked on pills she was never supposed to have taken.

After what felt like months, something finally broke her frozen stupor. It was small, but thieves thrived on the small noises in any situation, her especially. It was what kept them on their toes. In this case, it was the sound of a key being slid into the lock, and the front door creaking open. Parker stayed frozen, but her eyes slid over to the illuminated clock on the base of the flat screen TV.

Two o'clock in the morning. Who the hell was coming into the office at two in the goddamn morning?

Despite the fact that the entire office was cloaked in darkness, Parker heard the person shut the door and make their way with confidence down the hallway. Heavy boots made soft thuds on the hardwood floor, sounding out like thunder in the quiet place. Finally, the footsteps stopped. It was too dark to see anything clearly and Parker was in no mood to make her presence known to whoever it was. But that didn't stop her mind from racing over the possibilities.

The footsteps had been way to heavy to be Sophie's, who always wore something designer no matter the job. Hardison favored sneakers, and Parker preferred converse or combat boots, as long as it didn't get in her way. That left Nate and Eliot. Nate was probably out drinking himself into a blackout, so unless he had been kicked out of a bar (again) and had stashed more of his forbidden liquor here, that left-

"Parker."

His deep, husky voice came calmly out of the darkness only seconds before she was blinded by a flash of light. She blinked rapidly and the picture that came into focus in front of her was an odd one.

Eliot was there, in front of her, sitting on the table in the center of the room. The light that had blinded her had been the table lamp beside her. Eliot was wearing dark jeans and a black tee, but his hair was mussed up, like he had only just rolled out of bed. Maybe he had. It was two in the morning after all.

"Parker." Eliot said, and again his voice was gentle. That surprised her. Eliot was tough and macho and an all around badass. Gentle was one thing someone would not associate with the hitter. Then again, neither was cooking, but she had been pleasantly surprised during that wedding job a few weeks back when he posed as the chef and found that he actually knew what he was doing, and with professional skill. Then again, Eliot wasn't one to do anything merely passable. He was one to excel.

"Parker, focus. Focus on me. Talk to me. I'm right here."

Parker's eyes rested on the crystal blue ones on the man before her. As with everything, he was a pro at holding up a mask. They all were in their profession. It was the safest way to stay alive. But in this moment, Parker could have sworn there was a slight crack and she could see…was it concern?

"Why are you here?"

Her voice came out quiet and hoarse from lack of use, and she felt her skin flame a little but Eliot didn't seem to notice. Instead he looked at her, like he always did, like he was trying to figure her out.

"Do you want me to leave?" Eliot's voice held no emotion, and he started to stand as if to leave. Parker suddenly shot out her hand and latched onto his arm. She suddenly found that she didn't want to be alone right now, and if he left, she would be.

"No…wait, that's-that's not what I meant. I meant that it's two in the morning and you should be sleeping like normal people and instead you're here and I... don't know why."

Slowly Eliot sat back down on the table, but Parker didn't remove her hand from his bicep. She found the tensing muscle somehow comforting. Like a reassurance of his strength.

"I don't need the extra sleep. I only need about ninety minutes a day anyway, so I use the rest of my time for whatever I want. Training, growing food, recon, whatever. I'm always the first one in anyway, so I don't really care how early I get here as long as I get to the TV before Hardison downloads too many Doctor Who episodes." Eliot shrugged.

Parker smiled a little, her other arm still holding her legs tight against her chest.

"Also…you."

That got her attention. Parker's head shot up and her legs unraveled in her shock. She didn't even realize her nails had dug into Eliot's bicep until he started to pry her nails out of his skin.

"Oops. Sorry, Eliot. What…?"

Eliot stood to sit next to her, and Parker moved over so her back was against the end of the couch and she was facing the hitter. She had never seen him like this, so calm and gentle and reassuring. It was unnerving her how much this was making her focus.

"You never swung by to check on me, like you do every time after a job. I know those pills wore off a while ago. And I knew how you'd be feeling. I just thought I would check up on you. Make sure you were okay, and to make sure you know that you can talk to me if you need to. Or Sophie, if that makes you more comfortable. Hardison will listen, and even Nate-"

"How do you know?" Parker interrupted him, and stared unabashedly into his blue eyes. "How do you know what I'm feeling?"

There was a long pause. Parker wondered if she had crossed a line. She never knew if what she said to people was acceptable or appropriate until after the fact, and by then people were usually offended or upset.

"I've worked a lot of jobs, Parker." Eliot spoke slowly, almost like he was trying not to scare her. "What I do, it's not exactly safe. You guys have only seen a small portion of what I do, and that's not even the tip of the iceberg."

Eliot sighed and ran a hand roughly through his long hair, making it even messier. Parker secretly liked it that way. It made him look a little more like a cowboy: wild and untamed.

"There was a job, many, many years ago. Don't ask me where, don't ask me for what. What matters is that I got caught. The men who had me…they weren't the type of men to just ask nicely for something they want, you know? This was…dark, Parker, a dark time in my life. I was-kept-for six days before I managed to escape. "

"You were drugged." Parker suddenly understood, and her breath caught in her chest. Eliot looked up in surprise. He must have forgotten he was telling someone this memory, instead of reliving it himself. After a moment, he nodded.

"Yeah. " Eliot's face clouded over and Parker knew that that was all he would tell her on that subject. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were clear and that concern she had glimpsed before had resurfaced. "I know how good it feels. I know what it feels like when you come down, and I know what the withdrawal can do to you, Parker, and you…shouldn't have to go through that. Not alone, not ever. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Parker sighed and turned away.

"I was so happy, and I couldn't even remember why. Suddenly, the job didn't matter anymore. It…I wasn't worried or stressed anymore, just happy. It was like living in a…dream, and waking up was the nightmare, and a part of me knows that I was never supposed to take those pills and if I refused I would have blown our cover, and this is who I am. But another part of me…I loved it. I loved being that happy. "

"I could tell. " Eliot chuckled, and Parker remembered how she had leapt at him, her hips fitting perfectly into the shape of his as she hugged him tightly around the neck in that instance, his arm wrapped comfortably around her back. She blushed and punched his shoulder-hard.

"Hey! I'm trying to help you here!" but he was smiling, and Parker smiled back.

"Yeah. I know."

After a moment, Eliot stood and began walking back towards his office.

"Eliot." Parker called from the couch, suddenly missing the lack of closeness they had. They had shared things, hadn't they? Like friends did? They were friends, right? So she could tell him that she knew he didn't always show how much he cared, but she knew. They all knew. She knew he was the one with the most to hide, and sharing that meant he trusted her, just a little. She knew he was beginning to know how much they trusted him to protect them, no matter what the cause. She could tell him that right? But Eliot was looking at her expectantly and she knew his sharing mood had almost expired, so she settled for something that encompassed it all.

"Thanks."

And with a nod, he understood.


	3. So Much Better

**A/N: So this came out very differently than what I thought it would be, but I love it nonetheless. Again, thanks to Anime Girl23 for the inspiration. I do not own Leverage. Please review!**

Everything hurt.

That's the first thing his mind became aware of. His eyes were still closed, trying to hold on to the dark emptiness he was in. Here, he could just float forever, unaware of the world outside. He could stay in the dark and hide.

Except it was no longer dark. Slivers of gold shot through the empty space, like shattered glass. The darkness was burning away as he became conscious, and the streams of shattered gold connected as his eyes fluttered open to see the veins become strands of hair. As one floated in front of his nose, he reached up to capture the whisping strand when a jolt of electric pain jolted up his arm and caused him to hiss.

Everything hurt. It was the reason he had woken in the first place as the narcotics wore off and the pain slowly but none too gently began shaking his consciousness. Mentally, he tried to take an inventory on what felt the worst but there was still a fog in his head, his eyes blinking slowly to try and focus on the room in front of him. More specifically, the thief in front of him.

The room around him was an all too familiar sight in his profession: a hospital room. As the fog wore out of his system, his survival instincts began to rev into gear and he took in all the little details. There was a steady beeping heart monitor to his left, the volume turned down so as not to be quite as annoying as he's found it to be in the past. The room was a plain, sheer white and, to his surprise, it was private. A small, leather couch was tucked away by the window to the right, and he could see the rest of his team sprawled awkwardly across the sides and back in a deep, exhausted sleep. Well, all except the girl beside him.

So it was her hair he had seen through the dark. Parker's silvery blonde head of hair was resting peacefully in the crook of his neck, a small A/C fan blowing a few flyaway strands across his face. Eliot had to smile, but even that caused a twinge of pain and even his dried out throat couldn't choke back the groan he let out.

The injured man was not expecting the reaction he got next. In a flash, Parker whipped her head up from beside him and let out an insanely high pitched yelp, which then startled the others out of their own unconscious stupor on the couch. Almost as fast as Parker, Sophie whirled up out of her position next to Nate, who in turn erupted into a startled yell, which then woke Hardison from his position across the back of the couch and he toppled unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Eliot!" Parker's voice was way to high, and Eliot grimaced as the pitch started a small throb in his head. Yeah, like he needed a migraine on top of everything else. Luckily, the normally socially inept thief seemed to realize what she did, and reigned in her energy with a speed only known to Parker.

Tenderly licking his chapped lips, Eliot opened his mouth to say something, anything really, (his mind was telling him to growl, to jump and thrash, to rip out the narcotics and storm out of here like it was any other day), but all that he managed was a single wheeze.

"Oh, right. The nurse said your throat would be sore and to give you these. Here." Parker's high-speed chatter started to rev up again as she reached past him for a dull paper cup and spoon. In that same second, she had a spoonful of ice chips poured into his open lips. Eliot knew that if he wanted to, he could muster up the energy to be annoyed at her, but in all honestly, the ice chips were heaven sent to his burning throat. When it melted, his blue eyes glanced up again to his crew, now up and standing rather awkwardly around his hospital bed.

Eliot licked his lips again and sucked in a breath, shutting his eyes almost immediately after.

"Dammit Hardison." his voice, already low on every other occasion, came out a deep, gravely bass. He sounded like a chain-smoking cowboy (oh god, he could already hear the jokes…) and pure instinct told him that he probably didn't look like a million bucks either. God, how messed up was he? What happened?

"Aw, now you see that? Man wakes up after four days of near-coma and the first thing he does is "Dammit Hardison". Now that's just ungrateful. Ask anybody, this was not my fault, so don't you "Dammit Hardison" me, Mister Bulletproof, alright, cause I think it's high time some "Dammit Eliot" got into the mix, and let me tell you-"

"Dammit, Hardison, this is not the time nor the place to be venting." Nate interrupted the peeved hacker, who shut his rambling motor mouth with an audible snap, much to Eliot's relief. Unfortunately, it seemed Nate was unwilling to fill the following silence, leaving them all once again awkwardly waiting for…something.

'Well." Eliot finally started, partly to get his voice into use again. Hardison did say he was unconscious for, what, four days? He needed some explanation. "The last thing I remember is the debriefing back at the office. The, uh, Hextler and Hextler Law Firm…"

"Taking payouts from some of the more high level crime bosses and drug cartels in case any from their crews were arrested. The firm was in high enough standing to ensure a win for their not-so-innocent clients, while hanging the ones who really needed their help out to dry. Yeah, that was four days ago, Eliot." Sophie's soothing lilting accent helped Eliot to focus just a little bit more, but the more his questions were evaded, the more nervous he got.

"So what happened? Why am I in the hospital? Are the rest of you-"

"We're fine, Eliot." Nate reassured the hitter, catching a glance at the heart monitor, the beats just slightly faster than they were a second before. If they didn't want the nurses and personnel barging in to kick them out, they'd have to keep the violent man as calm as possible. Though with the information they had to spill, accomplishing that would be an incredible feat indeed. "The truth is, I'm not sure what happened myself. "

"I do."

Parker's comment was soft, but oh, so very loud in that quiet, private room. Eliot turned to face her, his neck stiff, and he groaned. He brought his hand up to rub the sore muscle and froze at the sight. His entire hand was swollen and purple, his fingers almost black and the limb packed tightly in a white plaster cast. Eliot swallowed, realizing that this was far worse than just a few bruises and a concussion.

"Parker…" Eliot swallowed again. "Tell me."

The blonde thief looked at the damaged hitter, her throat tight with emotion. Parker wasn't good with emotions. They were messy and could only end up hurting. And she was right. So she did what she always did. She shut down.

"Well, your face is pretty messed up. The doctor said you had a small hemorrhage and that they were waiting for the swelling to recede, which is why you were out so long. You've got a nice black eye, and a hairline fracture, and one guy got you real good with that knife, so that needed stitches, oh, and some massive bruising. You cracked two ribs and punctured a lung. There was also a gunshot graze on your left side, so there was that too. Your hand was shattered, repeatedly, and your left ankle was sprained, and you nearly bled out and-"

"Um, Parker." Nate's voice brought her out of her recitation of the injuries and she stopped in her tracks.

The other team members were looking at her as if looking at a particularly stupid child. She knew that look. It was one she herself shot at people on a daily basis. For a moment, though, she had no clue why she was on the receiving end now. Until she looked at Eliot.

His face was pale, his blue eyes wide in shock. His hand, the one without the cast, was clenching the hospital bed sheets into a tight knot. And not for the first time, Parker wished she knew the right thing to say.

"How." It was not a question. Eliot's voice was tight and restricted, and his eyes glazed as if they couldn't see. Parker swallowed and looked to her team, but none of them seemed willing to fill in the beginning, and none of them knew. She did.

"It was my fault."

She could see the others shock out of the corner of her eye, and with a quick motion of her head, she kept them silent. She kept her eyes on Eliot, and after a moment, the hitter met her gaze.

"Sophie was upstairs with Nate distracting the Hextler brothers and the other partners in the firm with that fake board clientele while Hardison shut off all the alarm systems in the server rooms and file archives. You and me were working our way down to find the documents implicating their drug buyoff and client shuffling when we got ambushed by security that was taking an early round. "

Parker paused, waiting while Eliot remembered. After a moment, the hitter's eyes cleared and he looked back at the thief.

"I…I was in the file room while you kept watch. It was taking me much longer than expected to find the damn things and then all of a sudden you were in a fight. It was six against one, and I know normally you can take them but you had turned to yell at me to hurry up when the shot went off and they caught you by surprise and-and-and-"

Her hands were shaking and there was a burning in her eyes. Vaguely, Parker realized that the others were no longer there, but all she saw was Eliot being beaten over and over again and yelling for her to go, and her not being able to move, just frozen in place until Eliot had the last blow and was dragging her somehow through the building and outside to the waiting van, where he promptly collapsed.

"Hey. Hey, Parker. Parker, look at me." Eliot reached out and touched her hands to stop them from shaking. Parker shook her head instead, determinedly looking anywhere but at the man before her. "Parker, listen, it was not your fault."

"But it is!" Parker glared at Eliot then, her angry, teary eyes meeting his clear, icy blue ones. "It is my fault. If you hadn't turned to yell at me, if I had been faster at finding the files….if I had been a better thief…"

There it was. That stupid line. It was what her father had said to her every day, and she had made it her mission to do just that: be a better thief. And she prided herself in being the best. But this last job…this wasn't something she could fix with explosives. And Eliot wasn't her stuffed Bunny. He was her teammate, her friend, her…person she cared a whole damn lot about, and she hadn't been good enough.

"Dammit Parker." Eliot's words made her cringe, but the tone was what confused her. He didn't sound angry….he sounded…exasperated? Frustrated? Amused? He was in the hospital and looked like he was hit by a tank and he was amused?

"Parker, this was not your fault. You are the best thief there is, no question there. I'm here, in this sterilized hellhole, because it's my job to protect you, and the others. I would have taken those guys on no matter what as long as you got out. Believe it or not, darlin', I've been taking care of myself a long time before you four got mixed up with me."

Parker let a shy smile escape, her overwhelming panic slowly receding.

"I know. But-"

"No buts. Parker, none of us are perfect. I did my job, and you did yours. You got the files and got away without a scratch. I'd say you are the better thief."

Eliot smiled then and Parker finally returned it. Tenderly, she reached out and tucked a silky strand of hair out of his face, her fingertips trailing down his bruised cheek. Eliot sighed, and his eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing evening out as he drifted back to sleep. Parker knew she ought to go find the others, update them. But she wanted this to last just a little while longer…she kept tucking his hair, watching his face ease out of pain and into calm.

"No." Parker whispered once she was sure he couldn't possibly hear. "You're better. You're so much better, Eliot Spencer."


	4. Save A Horse

**A/N: These are all random one-shots. There is no direct relation unless stated in an author's note. I will tell you guys if any chapters are to be seen in relation to one another. If you have requests for a one-shot, please PM me. Thanks for reading and please review! I don't own Leverage! That song is Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy by Big and Rich.**

 ***This is set after The Two-Horse Job in Season 1, so a few spoilers are included. ***

It was a good song. It really was, and at any other time, Eliot might have actually said that aloud. If things had been different, maybe he would have let them in just a little bit to see that side of him. But now that was impossible. He'd never be able to let them know. Because if he did…he would never hear the end of it.

Eliot sighed, and leaned back into his chair. He had taken sanctuary in his office, the one place he knew they wouldn't bother him. He knew it had been a mistake to take that last job. But Aimee and her dad…he remembered how much those horses had always meant to them both. Hell, he had loved them, too. Horses had always been a part of his life, and Aimee had been a part of it, too, for a while and when that he had seen their names on that possible client list…he had asked. He had asked Nate for help.

It had been worth it, he supposed. Except now he had revealed a small secret, a glimpse into his life before, a piece of himself to the four people he still barely knew and did not at all trust. It wasn't so much the country boy thing. His accent did come out more often than he'd like, even more so in his anger. It was the horses.

Ever since he had ridden bareback down the highway on the last job, the others had been giving him non-stop grief.

Sophie was, unsurprisingly, impressed.

"There's just something about a tough, angsty country boy riding bareback on a thoroughbred that just-mmm." Sophie had grinned and given the appalled Eliot a seductive wink. "And I'm sure Aimee thought so, too, huh?"

"Leave the grifting to the marks, why don't you." Eliot had growled warningly at the British woman and stormed off, mostly so she couldn't see the blush that threatened to flame.

Nate had been better, but only marginally.

"Nice work, Eliot." Nate had sidled up to him as they were leaving the stables. "You, uh, really did "ride em' cowboy". "

Eliot cringed, not able to hide his reddening face from his boss. But at least Nate, and Sophie, had had their jests and let it drop. And Eliot could live with that. He could live with them knowing a little bit of his country background, as it only seemed to just enlighten the mystery of "Eliot Spencer" for those two.

It was the remaining two that were driving him up the wall.

Parker, as she made clear the entire job, did not like horses. Hell, it had taken a whole lot of convincing to get her in that air duct, and a whole lot more once she had found herself face to face with the "terrifying beast". To her, horses were no joke.

Except when it came to him, apparently. Then, it seemed, it was fucking hilarious. She and Hardison had found Eliot's…activities in the stable bed remarkably unsurprising, unlike the grifter and mastermind. But for them, it was the horses.

Eliot didn't know what was worse: the song, or the fact that everyone was starting to sing to it.

 _Cause I saddle up my horse_

 _And I ride into the city_

 _I make a lot of noise_

 _'Cause the girls_

 _They are so pretty_

"Goddamn it. " Eliot growled. He could hear the song start again, for the hundred and twentieth time. He knew they were all out there in the main room, playing the goddamn track and waiting for him to come storming in, growling and threatening them until they turned it off, only for the whole thing to be repeated not two hours later.

 _Riding up and down Broadway_

 _On my old stud Leroy_

 _And the girls say_

"Okay. This ends now." Eliot stood and quietly went to the box he kept on the shelf behind his desk. This wasn't going to stop if he kept doing what they expected him to do. He learned that lesson the hard way throughout his entire life. He picked up his desired objects and twirled them around his fingers, watching the silver blur as the lyrics picked up volume from the other side of the office. So they decided to play it that way, huh? Alright.

Quietly, Eliot eased the door open and he slipped into the empty entryway. He could hear the soft whispers, and Parker's giggles, coming from down the hall. Targets acquired. Strategy in mind, Eliot turned away from where he knew his team waited and softly snuck around towards the opposite doorway.

 _Save a horse, ride a cowboy_

 _Everybody says_

 _Save a horse, ride a cowboy_

The lyrics were catchy; he'd give them that. And, he'd admit, he could see why it would sound…familiar to his own personal life and experiences. A small smile managed its way onto the hitter's face as he remembered himself as a kid, coming to the stables after school to see the horses and helping Aimee break them in. Those were the happiest days of his life, and the very last he would see for a long, long time. A small, twisting feeling circled his stomach and suddenly he felt like a wire was tugging at his heart.

 _I'm a thorough-bred_

 _That's what she said_

 _In the back of my truck bed_

"Okay that's enough!"

Eliot turned the corner and stood behind his team, all of who visibly jumped away from Hardison's laptop. Good. But he wasn't done yet. He carefully masked his face blank, he body relaxed and without a hint of the tension that boiled underneath. Just like he wanted, they all seemed suddenly on edge by his lack of fight. Now it was just a matter of who would break the silence.

"H-hey, Eliot. Man, we was just talking bout you. Um.." Hardison took a step forward towards the hitter. He hadn't noticed what he should have and he was further from his laptop. Again, this was perfect. "See, we were all just remembering how good of a cowboy you'd make, seeing as how-"

"Shut up, Hardison." Eliot's voice remained calm, a feat he as proud of. He didn't know if he was on the verge of screaming or just plain laughing, but he had to keep it together. Things were still new with these guys, and showing all your cards too soon made for a dangerous game.

"Now. This is the last time I am going to say this. Stop playing that song." Eliot spoke softly and very, very slowly so that they all, Parker especially, would understand his message very clearly.

"Hm. Or what?" Nate's fatherly smug tone almost broke it for Eliot. But he only smirked and eyed the little blonde thief.

"Sure, Eliot. We can stop." Parker's voice was cheerful, with no trace of apology or truth to it. Eliot knew she knew that she had found the loophole. The unspoken _"but we won't"_ hung in the air as Parker reached almost comically slow towards the laptop and hit the enter key.

 _Save a horse, ride a cowboy_

 _Everybody says_

 _Save a horse, ride a cow-_

There was the sound of shattering glass, alongside the sudden, delayed shriek of Sophie, as Eliot's knife whipped through the air and went right through the screen of Hardison's laptop.

"My baby!" Hardison wailed, sinking to his knees. "What the hell, man? Why, why would you do this? The song still exists, you Neanderthal. Destroying my precious did nothing! Why, oh baby, my poor computer, ah man…" Hardison reached for the shattered remains of his poor electronic. Parker, Nate and Sophie, however, were still staring at the hitter with a mix of shock and fear as he twirled a second blade in his fingers.

" You can't say I didn't warn you. " Eliot shrugged. "Consider that a polite follow-through, Hardison. I can just as easily repeat that with, say, extremely expensive liquor," Nate paled, "or perhaps, one-of-a-kind designer boots," Sophie made an audible gulp, "or even a very, very large amount of money." Parker didn't react, but Eliot could see her eyes sharpen coldly, but he knew she understood. "Glad we understand one another. I'll see y'all tomorrow." Eliot let his accent slip just a little bit, a smirk clearly in place, and as he turned to leave, he started humming that same song.

He'd never follow through on those other threats. And he already had another laptop on order for Hardison anyway since the hacker's birthday was coming up and he might as well ease his way into everyone's good graces.

Truth is, that song was slowly making Eliot…not happy, per se, but content. These people….well, they were all right, weren't they? Perhaps, given time, they'd all mean something to each other beyond the bonds of team crime.

It was a very good song.


	5. A Drink Alone

**A/N: So while these one-shots will mainly center on Eliot (and Parker), I just love the other characters as well, and they deserve some attention. Here's one from Nate's point of view, and this will be staged right around The Second David Job from Season 1, so yes, there are spoilers.**

 **This is inspired from Anime Girl23 and her story "50 Sentences". Please review!**

He knew this was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. He'd known that for years. But just because you know something's a bad idea doesn't mean you stop yourself from doing it.

Nate couldn't remember when he had suddenly gone from the occasional drink to the all night bar crawls, but he remembered rock bottom. He remembered the calls from Maggie, saying how Sam was sick and he wasn't getting better, and he had gone out and drowned the incessant worry in whiskey.

He remembered the 911 call as they rushed Sam to the hospital when he collapsed, his fever spiking too high fro his body to handle. He had left Maggie, there, all alone while he went searching for something to "calm his nerves." God, he had been an ass.

And then…he remembered finding the treatment….the one treatment that could help his baby boy fight whatever it was he was fighting…and he remembered the downright refusal Blackpoole had at his begging. He hadn't taken a sip that night.

And worst of all, he remembered Sam flatlining in the emergency room, his son's eyes closed forever, the paramedics trying to jumpstart his heart until they gave up. They just gave up on his son! His scream tore from his throat like some sort of primal rage and he had burst through the doors, ignoring their yells of warning as he grasped his child, his son, in his arms. He had prayed, pleaded, begged, cried, screamed….all for the life of a boy who had left too soon.

He couldn't remember how much he had drunk that night, only that the hangover had been the worst he had ever experienced and it had left him little more than a moaning heap for two days. Maggie had been there, at first. She had held him and let him scream and cry because it meant that he had cared. But she left. Nate had forced her hand and she left. And it was his entire fault.

To be fair, he had lied to her, even by omission. How could he tell his wife that the company they had worked for for years had denied Sam's life? That there was a way, if only he had tried harder… No, he let her believe what she wanted for so long, until their marriage was the last straw holding that together.

Nate palmed the glass in his hand, letting the ice cubes clink softly on the sides, swirling the rusty drink in contemplation. He had done it. He and the team had exposed Blackpoole and it was finally over. In more ways than one.

The bar he had found tonight was nearly empty, the interior dark and dingy, ensuring privacy for the more…hardcore sluggers like himself. He drank alone. It was how he liked it and he had become more or less regular enough that the other customers understood that he was man drinking to erase, not to make company.

Nate took a long, slow sip of his drink when a body plunked itself down beside him, nearly making him choke. Normally he was very astute when it came to his surroundings. He must be more hammered than he thought…

"Thought you might like some company."

Even in his inebriated state, Nate recognized that low, country growl that had been a part f his life for the last year.

"Well, you thought wrong. Go home, Eliot." Nate didn't even bother to turn to look at the hitter, instead choosing to deliberately take another long drink. Eliot, however, had other ideas and had soon flagged down the bartender for a beer.

"Can't. Already vacated the apartment. Everything's in the truck until tomorrow." Eliot, too, took a slow sip from his bottle, as though what he said was nothing but normal. Maybe it was, for him. Nate hadn't told the whole team what the next step was, but they were smart. They knew things had been broken, maybe irreparably. After what they'd done, what Sophie had done-

"What are you doing here, Eliot? I'd figure a guy like you wouldn't wait until tomorrow to disappear. You'd already be gone. Hell, I'd thought you'd scatter as soon as Sophie showed her hand."

At the mention of the grifter, Eliot's expression darkened. Nate took a chance and gave him a sideways look, noticing with a small shock that he wasn't angry. Well, not really angry, for the hitter anyways. He was...it was hard to place, but Nate could almost swear he was just a little more broken than he let on.

"Look, I didn't come here for me, okay? I get what we're doing, and I'm not complaining. I'm not here to change your mind, or whatever. I just came by to see if you were alright, what with what happened with Maggie."

"Jesus, Eliot. For the last time, I was not jealous that you flirted with my ex-wife. Okay? She wasn't even into you anyway, as clearly she saw right through our con, and besides, we're not even married anymore so-"

"That's not what I meant. Man, you're more defensive drunk than you are hungover." Eliot cut off Nate's rambling, neither one missing the fact that Eliot hadn't said sober.

"I meant…I know you told her the truth. About Blackpoole. I was just coming to see if you were okay, now that she knows the truth. I mena, it can't have been easy coming out like that. Believe me, I know the weight of secrets."

Now Eliot had turned on his stool to face Nate, but the older man was lost in his own mind.

He had told Maggie the truth, finally. It was the only way to get her on board for the con. But he had broken her, he knew it. He had been putting the last finishing touches on their "heist" during the museum's lockdown when he had heard the sounds of stifled crying floating over the comms. The others on the team had had the good sense not to talk, or ask questions, or maybe Hardison had muted Parker's as a precaution. But it hadn't taken Nate long to find the culprit.

He had told her a few days earlier, and she had been upset, understandably. But she hadn't cried there, on the bench in front of Hardison's new digs. Nor had she cried later that night when they were setting up their plans. But here, in the darkened corner of the museum gallery, she had finally let the floodgates open.

He hadn't asked questions. He hadn't made promises. He didn't even say a word. He had slid down the wall beside her and held her tightly, like she had done all that time ago when it first happened. Except he had known the truth then, and grieved. She had lived a lie, and now the grieving was worse because it was as if the loss was happening all over again. They hadn't said a word. It was all an understanding on a deeper level, something Nate hadn't had in so very, very long.

But he couldn't tell Eliot that.

"Eliot," Nate sighed, schooling his features into a blank mask that he wasn't sure would fool anyone, "we are not friends."

He could feel the lie burn in his throat, the liquor flaming it even more. Eliot only blinked and took another sip.

"We are not friends. I don't have to tell you anything about my life, and frankly, you've never earned the right to hear much more that what you already know. We are not the same. You are a thief, a hitter, a…." Nate let the continuation linger, knowing Eliot knew that he knew. "As much fun as we've had, it's time for me to get my life back. And believe me when I say that it will not include you, or Hardison, or Parker, or Sophie. You're all loners. So go be alone, and leave me here. "

That was much harder than he had thought. Nate took another swing of his drink, but it was no longer soothing. It tasted bitter and raw mixed with the words he had just spoken to the hitter beside him. He worried for a second if he had gone too far in trying to isolate himself. But when he chanced another look over, Eliot just looked disappointed. He took a final drink and laid his beer bottle down with a few bills and stood to leave. As he passed, he paused and laid a firm hand on Nate's shoulder, commanding him to listen as Eliot leaned in.

"I was alone, Nate. And I always will be, in some ways. The things I've done are different than the others, and that sets me apart. We all have things that set us apart and make us alone. But this team…we were alone together. And that wasn't so bad, was it? At least for a while."

Eliot sighed and his hand slid off Nate's shoulder.

"Even lone wolves belong to pack at some point. "

And then he was alone again. Except…

Nate shook his head and downed the last of his glass, shelling out the last of his money before standing up to leave. No. It was a bad idea to let this go on any longer. He was going to get his life back on track. He needed to cut ties, and so did they. After all, it wasn't like this had ever been more than a series of payouts. Right?

With more thoughts than he'd rather have, Nate stumbled out the door and into the cool night, determined on sticking to his plan.

"We are not friends. " Nate muttered. "We're not."


	6. Movie Night

**A/N: As much as we see the team on a job, there's so much more that happens off. So here's just a little fluffy bonding moment for the team of Leverage, which I do not own. Also, all the movies are real movies that I also do not own, but have seen! Enjoy this quirky little one-shot and review please!**

Parker was very excited, which was strange. Well, no, it wasn't strange she was excited. She was always excited about something, especially if that something was money. No, what was strange was what she was excited about.

"It's movie night!" Parker yelped as she swung in through Nate's apartment window.

The lithe thief dropped gracefully into the main room, tossing her duffle bag on the island in the kitchen as she skipped to where the rest of her team was already sitting.

"You're late." Eliot's rough and tough snarl came from the center couch, though Parker had been getting better at telling when he was joking. She giggled as she flipped over the back of the couch, settling beside the grouchy hitter and defiantly poking a nasty looking bruise on his forearm, making him growl again.

"I'm not late, silly. I was picking up provisions for the movie!" Parker's smile slipped a little and she cocked her head, looking at the others. "That's what people do right? They eat food during movies?"

"Have you never been to a movie before? Girl-" Hardison's shock quickly turned to a "seize the opportunity" attitude, but Sophie sidelined him with a look.

"Yeah, Parker. That's great! We can get the food later once we decide on what to watch. Did everyone pick out a movie?" Sophie's lilted accent was kind and parental, and Parker had to hide the little twist in her stomach from forcing her face into a grimace.

They had been on a particularly difficult job the last several days. Well, not difficult for her, but it seemed the others had had a bit of trouble. Eliot had gotten his ass kicked pretty badly (not that she'd ever say that to his face, seeing as she liked living), and as a result, he was couldn't even move without hissing in pain. So, seeing as they all, not just Eliot, could use a break, Sophie had decided to break out some "family bonding time."

Parker had been a little more than confused at her choice of words. Family bonding? Those words, separately, made sense to her, but together…it was a concept she just didn't understand. Like a lot of other things.

She knew they were a team. They had been working together for a little while now, coming close to a year. She knew that they had started to trust each other, and she had really started to like meeting up with other people to steal. It made it just a little more exciting. Parker knew that they were each starting to settle into their roles as thief, grifter, mastermind, hacker, and hitter. She knew that she had their backs and they, in turn, had hers, no matter what happened on or off the job. She knew that this is what a family was supposed to be. Sort of. Maybe?

So Parker had gone to the one person she knew could keep a secret. She didn't know how it started, them sharing secrets. It kind of just…happened. Well, maybe it was her fault. She was a thief, so that meant she was a watcher by her nature. And the most interesting subject for her to watch nowadays was Eliot Spencer.

It had started when she had been rappelling through the city late at night when she couldn't sleep a few weeks ago. She had paused, for a moment, on top of one of her favorite banks when she saw him below her. Well, not really below her, but in the bar across the street. He was sitting alone, purposely ignoring the animalistic looks aimed at him from the women sitting in the corner as he ordered another round for himself. Parker didn't know what changed then, but there had been this funny little clenching in her stomach and suddenly she had found herself ditching her precious equipment and strutting into that dingy bar. She had given one disdainful glare over at those cougars and promptly sat down beside her teammate.

She had asked why he was sitting there alone. He growled and drank.

She had asked why he was drinking if he always harped on Nate for doing it. He growled and told her to buzz off.

She had rambled and joked and simply was herself in her normal, abnormal way.

She had asked if she could stay with him for a while. He had smiled and ordered her a beer.

That had been a night when she knew she could really trust Eliot with anything. Neither of them had spoken again of that night, but they seemed to have reached an understanding that when things bothered either of them, (or rather, when Parker was bothered), they would keep each other's secrets.

So when Sophie had announced their "family bonding time" for after the latest job (of course, this was before Eliot was confined to the couch and not moving), Parker had raced to the gym she knew Eliot would be at. He was just finishing his workout when she walked in, clearly in his line of sight, as he always specified. She watched as he slowed down his punches on the worn out bag and began his cool down, knowing he was listening when she was ready to talk.

She asked him if they were a family. He didn't respond.

She asked him what it meant to bond. He didn't respond.

She asked again.

"Parker, you are asking the wrong person about this." He had finally spoken. "Out of all of us, I don't give trust as easily as I can take it. And that is not easy at all. I don't know what to tell you about family or bonding because its been so long since I had both. But Parker…this team, I think, is like that. Or it's starting to, if we let it. All Sophie meant is that if we're going to do this, to be a team, then we need to all hang out more than on the job. That's all this is. It's hanging out…with friends."

So here they were, on the couch at Nate's apartment in front of the huge flat screen TV Hardison installed and ready for their "family bonding time" which Sophie had also dubbed "MOVIE NIGHT".

"Oh, I got the perfect movie." Hardison gave a lopsided grin and pulled out his laptop. He typed a few keys quickly and suddenly the TV came to life, with his selected movie all queued up.

"I, Robot?" Parker read the title skeptically.

"Seriously, Hardison?"

"What? You got a problem with Will Smith?"

"No, I got a problem with the fact that the super geek picked a robot movie."

"Super geek? Say that again, you insecure cowboy-"

"Guys, this is supposed to be a happy night. Bonding, remember?" Sophie's calm, exasperated tone quickly hushed the bickering boys. Parker resisted the urge to giggle.

"Okay." Nate cleared his throat. "Well, I thought maybe we could watch Ocean's Eleven."

There was a small silence that Hardison broke.

"A group of thieves bonding over a movie about a group of thieves. Huh."

"Oh come on, it's a good movie!"

"Yeah, but we live the real thing every day. It's more like a documentary than a movie."

Parker groaned.

"I want something cool. And funny. And weird."

"Breakfast At Tiffany's?" Sophie asked sweetly, but she never got the chance to even defend her choice when they all broke out into a chorus of "Hell no" .

"Fine." Sophie grumbled. "What about you, Eliot? Parker?"

The thief and hitter looked at each other, each waiting to see who go first. After a moment of silence, during which Parker had the insane urge to stick her tongue out, the hitter nodded at the blonde to go first.

"Well, um…so I didn't really know what kinds of movies there were, or what people really watch." Parker shifted in her seat, slightly uncomfortable. She got up swiftly and went for her duffle bag. "So I went into one of those movie stores and looked around for something weird and funny and I found this." She pulled out the DVD set and held it proudly in front of her, waiting for their reactions.

"Twilight? Did the girl just say she went and _deliberately_ stole the entire collection of Twilight? For us to watch?" Hardison spoke slowly, carefully and painfully enunciating everything bizarre in that moment.

"I believe she did." Nate couldn't look away from the picture of the angsty teens on the cover of the first DVD.

"Did I not pick the right one?" Parker frowned and looked down at the box in her hand.

"Well, I've never seen em." Eliot's voice broke the awkward silence and they all looked at him. He shrugged. "Hey, we wanted a movie that wasn't work related, was weird, funny, and frankly I think since it's Parker's first movie experience, she should get to decide anyways. If she wants Twilight, then we're gonna watch Twilight."

Parker squealed happily and launched herself at the hitter, chucking the heavy box set at Hardison, who sputtered as the DVD's hit him in the chest. Parker buried her face in Eliot's silky hair, which smelled like the woods, and it took her a moment to realize she was vibrating. No, not her. Eliot. Eliot was vibrating. Rumbling, really, almost like a cat did.

He was laughing. Really, really laughing, and Nate and Sophie too. Hardison, too, was chuckling under his breath as he set up the movie. Parker moved back and settled down on the couch, looking around at the people who surrounded her.

After a few more grumbles and arguing, most of which concerned Parker's choices of food (cereal and cookies), they finally settled down to watch the movie. They actually managed to get through a fair portion of the movie before Parker burst out in laughter.

"Um, unless I'm watching something completely different but equally awful, I don't understand what's so funny." Hardison griped.

"It-it's just…" Parker started but then shook her head. "Never mind. Shush, Hardison."

No one would have thought much more of it until she did it again, bursting into laughter right as Bella was introduced to the whole Cullen family at the house.

"Okay, Parker. Spill it. What's so funny?" Sophie turned her attention to the blonde thief, who had her legs draped over the back of the couch and was currently watching her chosen film upside down.

"Okay, it's just…it's kinda like thery're us. Or we're them , you know? Being a vampre would be so cool, right, with the looks and the super strength. Maybe Eliot's already one, since he doesn't seem to die-"

"Parker, I am not a vampire." Eliot growled.

"What do you mean, Parker, that they're us? " Nate was now intruiged, as always, by the thief's little intuitive outbursts. Parker, glad for an interested party for her insane quirks, flipped right around and pointed at the still moving screen.

"Okay, so that guy, the dad, Carlisle, is Nate because he's in charge of keeping everyone together, despite the fact that they are all quite capable of looking after themselves. And Sophie, she'd be Esme because she's in love with Carlisle, who is Nate, and likes to mother everyone. Ooh, I guess she'd also be Rosalie cause she's really into fashion and appearance and stuff like that, but she can still kick ass. And I'm obviously Alice." Parker paused there, waiting to see if anyone needed an explanation. They didn't.

"Okay, so that leaves Eliot and Hardison. But there are three other characters?" Sophie asked gently, now quite curious.

"Umm…well, see, this gets kind of stretchy, but Hardison would be Emmett, only because he's so innocent and immature and happy, you know?"

"Hey!"

"But Eliot is Jasper. He's so moody and masochistic, but he's stronger than he looks, and he can read people very well and he's a fighter who's been through a lot and still survives. And Edward, too, because he thinks he's a monster, but he's good."

Everyone was silent again, each reflecting on what Parker had said. They had often said she didn't quite grasp what went on around her, but clearly she understood so much more…despite the fact it had to be delivered in a paranormal teen romance movie. Parker was silent as she watched their faces, and it became suddenly very important that they understood that she understood.

"But even with all their differences, they're the same. They're one family because they're so unique, and they're all trying for one thing: to be the good guys, right? Together, as a family, they save the day. Right? Or did I just get all of that wrong?"

There was more silence for a while, all of their eyes on the vampires on the screen, watching as Edward played Bella a lullaby, as they went to play baseball, as they became one deadly team to protect Bella and fight against evil, even though maybe they weren't so pure themselves.

"No, Parker." Eliot's voice was soft, very, very soft so only she could hear. "You were exactly right. This is a family, as messed up as it is. I'd say you're in charge of movie nights from now on. "

Parker smiled.

"Good. Cause I also stole Harry Potter, Lord of The Rings, and Narnia."

Eliot rolled his eyes but said nothing as the final fight scene between James and Edward started to play out.

"There's something wrong with you." but there was a smile in his voice.

"Yeah." Parker poked his bruised arm. "But it's a good kind of wrong."


	7. Only Sophie Knows

**A/N: This is set at the beginning of season two, so there are a few spoilers. I do not own Leverage! Review, please!**

Sophie Deveraux remembered when she was a little girl, no older than seven, and being asked the question: What is your favorite thing in the world? She'd be damned if she could remember who had asked her that question, but she did remember what her seven-year old self had answered.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, wild geese that fly with a moon on their wing. These are a few of my favorite things!" Sophie smiled. She had loved that movie, and that song had been such a favorite of hers. She'd sing it round and round to her toys and dolls, pretending she was Maria and singing her heart out. That's when she had known she was destined to be an actress.

Even if her type of acting wasn't the kind to get rave reviews by critics. Sophie glared again at the bitter words Parker showed her on the theatre's website. After twenty years, she had been so excited to perform as Maria at last! And they had all come: Eliot, and Parker, and Hardison and even Nate! And the whole show had been-

"Awful. Horrible. Miserable. Humiliating. " Sophie moaned as she dropped her head over and over, and once more for good measure, on the hardwood counter in Nate's kitchen. "It can't really have been that bad, could it?" She turned to the rest of her team-well, ex team. All of who exchanged awkward grimaces and wisely remained silent.

"I liked that funny song in the middle." Parker gave a shy smile at the grifter, and Sophie had to give a soft smile back. The thief really was quite endearing when she wanted to be.

"What funny song?" the thief's words caught up to her after a moment and Sophie's face turned to one of confusion. She got off the kitchen stool and went to stand behind the couch.

"You know..." Parker shrugged as the others turned to look at her as well. "Whiskers and cactus and raindrops and posies and brown packages and string and all the other silly stuff. I mean, come on, who likes sashes anymore. That song was ridiculous, and the way you sang it-" Parker cut of here, coughing a little as she realized what she was saying. "It was very good. It was very, very good. It made me laugh."

"That's not even-" Sophie started, then groaned and fell forward on the couch, her face buried slightly in the cushions. "Those aren't the words, Parker. And the song was supposed to be about love and beauty and the simple things and what we think about when we think about all those things. It's…well, it's her favorite things!"

"What person thinks that woolen mittens are their favorite thing?" Parker's nose crinkled a little as she tried to puzzle it out. "That's just stupid."

"It's a song, Parker." Eliot snapped, rolling his eyes. "It's a freaking musical. Make-believe. The character liked those things. Let it go."

"If it was me,-" Parker continued as if she hadn't even heard Eliot. "I would have said money, like lots of cash with unsequential serial numbers, and stuffed animals, mainly rabbits, and explosives and high buildings and that feeling you get when you jump off and you're flying and completely weightless. Also, high-techy security vaults with fun lasers. And sharing secrets with people. Watching people is pretty fun, too. I like the early morning air, when it's cold and bright and new. And the thrill of pulling off a new heist, or revamping an old one. And the smell of-" Parker once again cut herself off, a small blush creeping up on her pale cheekbones.

Sophie stared at the blonde thief for a moment. She was the only one. The others were staring off into their minds, thinking of what she had said but not how she had ended. Only Sophie saw the blush. Only Sophie saw the furtive look she gave towards the oblivious hitter, who was staring fixedly on the silent television in front of him. Only Sophie thought she knew what it was Parker's favorite smell might be.

"Anyway." Parker cleared her throat, her skin no longer flaming. "Those are my favorite things. Some of them, anyway."

"Yeah." Hardison spoke up thoughtfully. "I get you, girl. For me, I'd have to say the tech is pretty sweet. Gaming online, and busting down firewalls like a badass cyber cop, and smarting y'all with my geeky wonder. And don't forget my orange soda supply, man, that's my saving grace. And the sweet sound of a bad guy's bank account going broke. And then there's my Nana's cooking, and bells-" Hardison coughed.

Only Sophie saw the quick glance he shot at the thief. Only Sophie saw the flash of sadness in his eyes as he saw where hers were looking. Only Sophie thought she knew why Hardison liked bells.

"A good whiskey." Nate's husky voice broke the brief reverie their small group had retreated into. Sophie gave him a stern look, but the mastermind either wasn't paying attention or he skillfully ignored her. "A nice, strong brandy. Peace and quiet. A good book." He paused when he saw their bored, and skeptical, faces. "Conning the pants of a cheating corporation that's bleeding innocent people dry. Helping people who can't help themselves. Family. L'Essence De Magnifique."

Only Sophie saw the small smirk as he listed off the most boring things in the world. Only Sophie saw the glimmer of pain when he mentioned the word family. And only Sophie thought she knew why his favorite thing was her favorite perfume.

There was a longer silence after Nate. They were all trying not to stare at the volatile hitter, but Sophie would be damned if she went before the brooding cowboy. The silence stretched on longer and longer, and Eliot's gaze did not waver from the silent game that was now playing on the TV. Sophie had almost given up and opened her mouth to speak when a soft voice shattered the silence.

"Sweat." Eliot's voice was low and firm, a sign that he did not want to be interrupted. Hardison closed his mouth and nodded to let Eliot continue. Parker's eyes were wide and curious. "Boxing and sparring, training and just letting loose. Loosing control in my own element, in my own time." He paused, and Sophie could see him leaving it there and moving on. "Cooking. Doesn't matter what, so long as I'm in the kitchen and using my knives. Organic foods, homegrown. A good beer and a lot of rough games. Good music. Ice. Doing my job. Horses. Sunrise. " Eliot finished his short list and took a long sip of his drink.

Only Sophie heard the small hitch in his voice when he mentioned doing his job. Only Sophie noticed how his crystal blue eyes glazed over only for a moment, before he cast a side glance to the girl beside him. Only Sophie thought she knew why he liked sunrise the best.

And suddenly, their eyes were on her.

"Well. What are your favorite things?" Parker asked quietly.

Sophie paused and thought back on her life over the last two years. She loved the stage, the spotlight on her. She loved becoming a new role everytime she spotted a mark. She loved the feel of something new and stolen and hers, and the feeling she got when she added it to her warehouse collection. And then there was the ever comforting sound of her team in her ear, of Hardison with the directions and intel she needed to sell her part. The sound Parker made as she was rappelling off a new, ever higher building, or Nate's voice when he knew exactly what it was they were going to steal. Or the smell of Eliot's cooking when they got back from a rough job, or the sound of him taking out the bad guys, taking the beating so they could run. Sophie realized sharply that she had come to think of these things as…her favorite things.

Only she knows those little details about each of her team members. Only she knows that every little thing that she loved was only the very beginning of her ever growing fondness for this little, quirky family.

Only she knew she could never say any of these things out loud.

"Oh," Sophie said with a smile. "You know, just the usual things."


	8. It Still Hurts

**A/N: This is set after the episode The Order 23 Job, so there are several spoilers. Also, some inspiration from Anime Girl23 story "50 Sentences". Please review and enjoy!**

Eliot threw back another shot, barely wincing as the liquor burned his throat, and slammed the glass back down on the countertop, his hand already reaching for the bottle for another refill.

It had been a rough night, and for Eliot, that was saying something. But this time, it wasn't about the con or the mark, or the agent he had had to fight off. No, this had been so much worse because he had seen Randy. If he hadn't seen the kid, he would have had his com in and he wouldn't be alone in Nate's kitchen downing all of his alcohol. But then Randy would still be with his father…and no kid should have that kind of childhood. He knew that better than most.

He had made his way back to Nate's apartment after watching the Marshall escort Randy out of his father's custody. He thought that seeing the kid out of danger would have eased him some, but his chest continued to hurt as memories plagued him. He would have gone home, or found a fight, or, hell, he could have marched up to that bastard's door, knocked it off its hinges and followed through on his threat from the hospital stairwell.

But he didn't. This was one of the very few times violence would not have eased the pain. So he headed back to Nate's, because God, he needed good, strong drink. Or two. Or twenty.

The others were seemingly out, doing who knows what and he didn't care, so as soon as he walked through the door, he had headed for the kitchen, swiped the stash of liquor he knew Nate kept, and just started drinking it all, hoping to forget.

Unfortunately, Eliot grimaced a little as he downed another shot, thanks to his upbringing and training, losing control and getting blackout drunk was something Eliot didn't seem capable of. Guess he'd have to settle for numbing the heartache instead of forgetting.

Eliot wasn't sure how long he sat there, alone, but it was a while after he moved off the whiskey and bourbon and was now nursing a beer when he heard a key slide into the lock. He heard his team's laughter on the other side and he closed his eyes. He heard their laughs die down, and in his mind, he tracked their footsteps from the door, and into the main room until the stopped and he knew they saw him. He didn't turn around, and kept his eyes focused on his drink.

"Well. If it isn't Mister Lone Wolf. What, did you decide pulling out your com wasn't big enough a dick move so turning off your phone and going off grid to sulk was the next big step?"

Eliot winced a little at Hardison's harsh tone, but didn't let it show.

"What the hell are you talking about now, Alec?" Eliot spoke low, and deliberately used the hacker's first name.

There was a moment of silence, in which Eliot could feel the concern. Faint footsteps followed and one by one, his team came around the other side of the counter to face him.

"Eliot…" Hardison's whole demeanor changed in an instant. "Are you drunk?"

"Nah." Eliot shrugged, raising his beer up and drinking the last of it. "I don't get drunk."

A hand came down on his shoulder and Eliot jolted back, his eyes wide. There was a shattering of glass and Eliot looked down to see that he had broken his beer bottle and his instincts had made an instant weapon. He looked up to see who had touched him and found himself looking at a very startled thief. Parker's eyes were as wide as Eliot's but Eliot could see the tinge of hurt in hers that was mirrored by panic in his.

"Eliot?" Sophie's accented voice came gently through Eliot's numb fog and he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand across his eyes. He dropped the broken bottle, ignoring the twinge of pain as the glass cut his hand.

"God, Parker, I'm…I'm sorry. I just…you shouldn't have…I'm dealing with something right now, alright. I needed a drink, that's all."

"More than one, I see." Nate glanced sadly at the mess of empty bottles all over his kitchen. "There is a bar downstairs, you know."

"Didn't want to deal with people. That's why I took the battery out of my phone. I wanted to be left alone." Eliot directed that last part towards the hacker, who had the decency to look ashamed.

"Sorry, man. I mean, we just thought you were off sulking or something cause of what happened at the hospital-"

"Yeah, about that. What did happen at the hospital?" Sophie looked from the hacker to the hitter. "Hardison said you went off com for a while?"

"Such a hippo." Parker muttered, crossing her arms and giving Eliot was he was she meant to be one of his own signature glares.

"Um, I think she meant hypocrite." Hardison clarified. "And she'd be right. Every time we do a job, you're always harping on our asses about safety and procedure and double checking everything. And then here you are, blatantly disobeying your own rules and going off com and nearly blowing the whole damn thing! What the hell was so important that you went off like that?"

"Look." Eliot was trying very, very hard not to let it all come out. He still had his secrets and while they could all guess, he'd be damned before he'd tell. He had to keep his control. It was what he did best. "There was this kid-"

"Oh great. You pulled a Parker." Sophie sighed, her head falling into her hands.

"Hey!"

"HEY!"

"I just meant that the last time kids were involved, Parker went off on her own and tried to rescue twenty kids from a Serbian orphanage and nearly got us all killed. And this time, we nearly blew the job because you, what, decided to befriend a kid?"

"He was being abused!" Eliot snarled, standing back a little further, the fury in his body mixing with the liquor and fueling his instability.

In that moment, everyone went still. Parker was completely rigid, and Eliot knew she had had a similar childhood as wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Why don't you start from the beginning." Nate motioned for everyone to move into the main room and once they all settled on the couches, he gave Eliot a pointed look.

The hitter sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, his hands running over his face.

"I saw him right as we were starting the con in the hospital." Eliot took a breath. "He had a broken arm…and a bruise on his cheek, which was a few weeks old by the shading. His beefy dad was signing him in, telling the nurse he fell of a skateboard. He looked at me and….maybe I did pull a Parker-"

"Again, hey."

"But I just couldn't-I mean, he was looking at me and he couldn't say anything and then there was the job, but I-" Eliot stopped and raised his head up. His eyes were a dark, grey-blue. For a moment, his shields were down and the emotions he kept so expertly hidden rose to the surface. In that same instant, however, they were gone.

"I know I was a bit of a hypocrite today."

"Like, a major hippo." Parker jutted in.

"Yeah." Eliot didn't even spare her a glance. "But I just…I needed some time to myself, okay? Retain my control, stop….thinking so much. Even I need a break from things once in a while, and no offense, but that does include all of you."

"Whew." Hardison blew out a puff of air. Eliot knew he made it sound so much meaner than he meant it but it was a long day, and the numbness was starting to wear off. If he could just-

"Why didn't you just take some time and head up to your pony ranch for a few days?"

This time, Parker's outburst caught everyone's attention. Eliot froze for a second then locked eyes with the petite thief. Nate, Sophie and Hardison were also stock still, their eyes flickering back in confusion from Parker to the now horrified hitter.

"Dammit, Parker…"

"Oh, wait, was that a secret? You told me a secret? Guys, Eliot told me a secret! " Parker bounced excitedly in her seat. "Awesome! Oh, oops. Sorry, Eliot."

"Hold up a minute. Y'all telling me that Eliot actually owns a pony-"

"Horse! Not ponies." Eliot cut the hacker off and leaned back into the couch.

"No way. That's the truth? Man, I didn't know you got any more cowboy."

"You own a ranch?" Sophie exclaimed. "That is wonderful! Since when?"

Eliot groaned and shot Nate a look, hoping he'd at least save him from this truth, but the mastermind simply shrugged and motioned that he was waiting as well. The hitter groaned and stood to get another drink.

"Technically, it's my uncle's ranch. Or was, really. I used to go up there every summer and help out with the horses. Hell, the older I got, the more I went up there until I practically lived with my uncle instead of my own parents." Eliot paused. "He died when I was seventeen. Left me the whole place. Except by that point, I…I couldn't stay in that town anymore. I had my cousin take over the place legally and I got the hell outta Dodge."

There was a moment of silence and when Eliot turned around, he saw them staring at him with mixed expressions.

"Hey, now look. I don't want your pity, okay? It was a long time ago, and-"

"And it still hurts." Parker spoke softly, but her words hit him hard. "That's why you had to help Randy. He reminded you of you."

Eliot averted his eyes and drank deeply. Sometimes he hated working with professional con artists.

"Eliot?" Sophie came and sat beside him, but Eliot kept his gaze focused on anything but her, or Nate, or Hardison, and especially Parker.

"Look. It's not something I enjoy talking about. We don't ask about Parker's childhood, do we?"

Parker gasped a little and immediately Eliot cursed inwardly at saying the first dumb thought that popped into his head.

"Parker-god, I'm sorry. I-"

"No, Eliot. It's okay."

"No, it's not!" Eliot stood. "Dammit, I-this isn't your problem! You guys don't apologize. The one man who has that right is 1400 miles away probably hammered and beating on his wife like he used to do to me."

Nate stood up and walked slowly towards the agitated hitter.

"Eliot, we all have cases that effect us. If you need time, you have it. Go. Go up to your ranch and ride the horses-"

"Ponies." Parker muttered.

"I…" Eliot raised a fist and covered his mouth, unsure anymore what he was going to say. "I had to help him. I had to help him because there was never anyone to help me and no kid-"

Another hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked up to see the hacker.

"Hey, man. Don't worry about it. Man, if ya said that earlier, I never would have given ya a hard time. In fact, we could all use a few days. World of Warcraft has been calling my name for days, y'all. "

"Ooh, I've been dying to go downtown and scavenge the new shopping center. These Giovanni boots have been practically begging me to buy them."

"Buy? You're adorable, Sophie. There's a new gallery exhibit at the museum and their featuring the Cordella Diamond Exhibit. They're so shiny and pretty and so mine."

Eliot smiled a little at the banter his team started up. Nate chuckled under his breath and nudged Eliot towards the door.

"Go. Take a week then meet us back here."

Eliot smiled, only slightly. Maybe this wasn't the best way to open up to his team, and it wasn't exactly information he ever planned on sharing, but nothing seemed to have changed. And for that he was grateful.

"Thanks, Nate."

"No problem. Oh and Eliot?" The hitter turned around as he reached the door. "Why horses?"

Eliot was about to reply that he just told him why, bu he knew that wasn't the point he was asking about. The other three paused in their personal planning and waitied for his response.

"Because." Eliot started, wishing he had left an hour ago. "When I was a kid, they were the only thing fast enough to get me the hell out when my mama screamed my name to run."

And with that, Eliot left, the pain in his heart still there, but maybe, just maybe…it wasn't as bad as before.


	9. It Still Hurts Part 2

**A/N: Sorry for the long break! I've been trying to word this chapter just right, and it hasn't gone exactly as planned. But I think I have it now! Here was a review left that I liked:**

: I REALLY enjoyed your story and I wish you would add to it something like Eliot goes and gets a little payback.

 **I'm sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but I kinda like how this turned out. This is a continuation of where the last chapter left off. Enjoy and review!**

Eliot sighed as he slung his duffle bag into the bed of his '82 Chevy and made his way around to the drivers seat. His old truck started with a familiar purr and he eased it smoothly from the curb of his city apartment. The radio sung quietly an old classic and he let that fill the empty cab as he drove towards the airport.

After this last job, and that last conversation with his team, Eliot had decided that it was high time for a break. He had called up his cousin, Matt, and told him he was coming up for a few days so that the place would be all set up nice, and immediately come to his apartment to grab his go bag. In his profession, it was always wise to keep a bag stashed away with the necessities in case of a last minute escape.

It wouldn't be the first time. Not even with this team of his.

Eliot let out a huff at that thought as he pulled onto the freeway. He had to get away, if only for a few days. Nate had even agreed! Who was he to argue with some free time? Lord knows he never got enough of it. Besides, with the week he's had…

"This is good." Eliot said softly to himself. "A few days, just me an' the horses, and then right on back here. That's all. Clear my head. Yeah, this is good."

The hitter sighed and drove along the familiar route in silence, letting thoughts of the others drift into his mind. Nate, most likely, was researching more clients. To be fair, Eliot wasn't sure what Nate did now in his free time since drinking was off limits, but that man never seemed to stop working. Sophie was probably working her way through a shopping bender that was sure to leave some poor boutique absolutely stripped bare. Parker mentioned a museum exhibit…he'd have to dial up his old police scanner just to be on the safe side. And Hardison was probably making a mess in his kitchen with his junk and orange soda and whatever the hell video game he was cued into now. Eliot couldn't help the small smile at the thought of them all on their vacation, the smile slipping as he drove further and further out of the city.

About forty minutes later, Eliot finally pulled his truck off the highway and onto a side exit that led to his private airstrip. Not many people knew about this hangar, which is precisely why he had bought it a year ago with that multi-million payout during their first job. A private jet meant no security hassle, no annoying passengers, no desperate scramble for tickets, and the comfort of having the luxury to fly anywhere he wanted without spending a cent on airfare. It really made jobs so much simpler. Not that his team knew about his little expenditure.

Eliot slowly pulled the truck up to the hangar gates and parked as the plane pulled around and out onto the runway. He quickly hopped out of the Chevy, waving at the pilot and snatching his duffle bag from the bed, hoisting it high on his shoulder.

"Afternoon, Mr. Conway."

"Toby." Eliot nodded at the copilot as he approached his plane. "Everything all set to go?"

"Yessir. Everyone is accounted for and ready to fly. Say the word and we're off." Toby smiled crookedly at him before walking off to do the last minute air check.

Eliot stood at the base of the boarding steps for a moment, his mind trying to process what he just heard.

"Everyone?" Eliot wondered aloud. There was only ever him and a single steward on board with the pilots, for personal reasons. "Who the hell…"

With a slight snarl, Eliot bounded up the steps and into the entryway of his plane and turned to face the normally empty interior. Except, it wasn't empty. Not by a long shot.

"Hey! Eliot's here!" Parker squealed from her place on the couch, her head balance on the floor, her hair a golden puddle, and her feet stretched across the back and onto the wall. Eliot could already see the scuff marks. 'Let's get this show on the road! Or would it be plane in the sky?"

'What the hell are you all doing on my plane?" Eliot barked, more than a little annoyed as he surveyed his teammates. "And how did you even-"

"Eliot," Hardison interrupted. "let a guy explain, will ya, before you get all Spanish Inquisition meets Viking Massacre on our asses. "

"What does that even mean?" Eliot quipped as he tossed his duffle bag underneath his seat, his body and tone tense. There was a brief pause, during which Eliot felt the plane shift and start to roll down the runway. Dammit. Eliot closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was so very close to the beginnings of a migraine, and he wasn't nearly comfortable with these people to deal with that, especially right now.

"Look, man. We left things kinda…not alright the other night." Hardison spoke from his place at the other end of the cabin. Smart move. Eliot's anger wasn't simmering down, and the more they confessed to invading his privacy, the more he was gonna want to bust a nose. Or a laptop. "And we got to thinking…"

"I can go buy boots any day of the week. Any hour of the day, really, what with the shopping networks and a double platinum credit card." Sophie grinned from the opposite couch.

"Clients are flexible." Nate shrugged from his cozy little haven at the bar. Eliot gave a little smirk at Nate's already frustrated expression. The bar was only stocked with his own personally grown food and non-alcoholic beverages, again for personal reasons, and judging from Nate's tenseness, it didn't please the older man. Eliot grinned a little wider.

"The dumb museum moved their exhibition to next Thursday." Parker groused from her upside down position. "Plus I've never flown on a plane."

Eliot nodded his head towards her and she gave him a secretive little smile. He knew why Parker really wanted to come. To be honest, he wasn't so much mad at her for spilling his "secret" but at himself for how he acted last night. He may not get drunk from alcohol, but the stuff made him a dumbass sometimes.

"And, well…" Hardison chuckled. "I just had to come see The Hulk's secret pony ranch all the way out in Thompson Falls, Montana. So we decided to hitch a ride on this sweet beauty of yours."

"You _hacked_ my-"

"No, no, no, man!" Hardison yelped, startled by Eliot's sudden aggression. "Parker told us."

Eliot turned his glare to the blonde thief, who had turned right side up and was staring dutifully at her sneakers. He kept his gaze on her in silence, waiting. After a few minutes, her eyes peeked up from her feet and caught his own, and she crumbled.

"I didn't mean to follow you the first time, I swear! But I was bored, and you had just told me about the ranch, which was the first secret you had ever told me and I was excited! So when you said you were taking off for a few days, I was curious so I followed your truck out of the city, cause I thought maybe you would drive there, but when I saw you pull into the hangar I realized you were going to fly, and then I met Toby, whose really weird by the way. He kept asking about my plans for later, and laughed when I said rappelling. I don't see how that's funny. Weird. Anyway, I asked what airport it was and he said it was privately owned and when I asked by who, he said Mr. Conway, and you happened to be walking out of your truck and when he pointed to you, I panicked and ran and I felt so bad after you left last night cause I shared your secret that I couldn't help but spill when the others were wondering where you'd go and then Hardison hacked the security for Mr. Conway, which we know is you and I'm SORRY!"

Parker had been slowly getting more and more worked up during her explanation until the last words were more screamed than said as she collapsed backwards on the couch, her eyes covered in the crook of her arms. The whole cabin was silent, looking to their hitter's blank face in apprehension, prepared for the worst.

What they weren't prepared for was the low, rumbling laugh that erupted from the man's broad chest.

Eliot couldn't help it. As much as he wanted to remain pissed and surly, he just couldn't when it came to Parker. He had tried and failed before, so there was no reason in doing so now. Not when the plane had already taken off.

"Um…is he okay? Is the high altitude affecting Eliot?" Hardison spoke slowly, his eyes wide and jumping from Sophie to Nate in confusion. After a moment, Parker raised her arms off her face and glared.

"Why are you laughing? Do you not believe me? Or are you laughing cause you're planning to kill us and bury our bodies over the Canadian border?"

Eliot heaved himself out of his seat and made his way over to the couch Parker was sprawled on, nudging her knees out of the way so he could sit.

"I'm not laughing at you, Parker. It's just…" Eliot ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I guess I just wasn't planning on having company these next few days. Especially after last night."

"Yes, about last night." Sophie cleared her throat, and Nate moved from the pitiful bar to sit beside her. Hardison cautiously came from his little corner and moved to the chair Eliot had vacated. "We were thinking-"

"You need to come to terms with what happened, Eliot." Nate interrupted. Sophie pressed her lips together in annoyance, but nodded in agreement. "You can't go off grid every time a kid that reminds you of yourself gets involved, or passes by. You need to settle this."

"What are you talking about?" Eliot's contentment from moments before was draining quickly.

"You told us that the only man who had the right to apologize was 1400 miles away, probably beating on his wife." Nate recalled gently, his eyes piercing.

"It's payback time, baby! Whoo!" Parker yelped, making them all jump. Her eyes were wide and excited, her blonde hair mussed from when she was just laying. Eliot looked at her in shock. The thief blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Payback time?" Eliot repeated, his brow furrowed, in anger or confusion he wasn't too sure.

"Yeah, like we did with Blackpoole, remember?" Hardison threw in.

"Oh, I remember. " Eliot snarled. "I remember that the reason we went after that sociopath was to help Nate get revenge for his son. What your saying…" he took a slow breath. "You're suggesting I go home and-and _beat up_ my old man to teach him a lesson about what he used to do to me as a kid?"

He waited for someone to contradict him, but the cabin was silent once again.

"No."

"But, Eliot-"

"No, Sophie. It's not the same thing! I can't go back, you know why? Because all he did for me, all that town ever did for me was push me away and it took me years to be able to do that, and I am not going to ruin that by going back. The man was a miserable bastard, okay? There were times, sure, when he was what most kids would call a real dad. But the things he wanted…the things he did…" Eliot took another steadying breath, once again unsure how he had gotten to the point of spilling his past with people he didn't trust yet. "It's not something you get over, or get revenge on. It's something you live with and adapt to. The closest I can ever come to is forgiving him, and I am no where near that part of my life. Okay? So I would appreciate if for once, you could respect the fact that my life isn't your job to fix."

Eliot looked each member of the team in the eyes as he spoke, saying the last part painstakingly slowly so as to make them all understand how important it was. After what felt like an eternity, one by one, they all nodded and, like a weight had been suddenly lifted, Eliot leaned back into the couch and grinned.

"What?" Parker cocked her head in curiosity as Eliot's rumbling laugh started to build again.

"Oh, I was thinking of a little payback."

"But I thought you just said…" Sophie wondered, but Eliot interrupted.

"Oh, not payback on my dad. No, you see, for all Alec's hard hacking skills, he probably didn't tell you some of the essentials of my ranch. "

"Like…?" Nate asked, pursing his lips.

"Like…." Eliot drawled. "the fact that my ranch house only has organically grown produce, which includes non-alcoholic beverages, six days out of the week."

Nate groaned and closed his eyes, dropping his head into his hands.

"Also, my uncle didn't really like neighbors all that much, so the house itself is about two and a half hours away from the nearest town, which mainly consists of a post office and grocery market. "

Sophie's jaw dropped and she laid a hand at the base of her throat.

"There's no…outlet? Nothing? Not even a GAP? Are we even going to a real place?"

"Not only that, but there is absolutely no wifi."

"Excuse me, absolutely no what?" Hardison leaned forward. "Are you kidding me? Is this for real? It's 2009, what kind of place doesn't have goddamn Internet? Oh Lord Jesus, help me through this trying time."

Parker giggled a little and Eliot cast her a side glance.

"What are you laughing at? Don't you remember? This is a horse ranch."

Parker let off with a gasp.

"No. NO, no, no, no, no, no. Not again. Not after the clown. Uh-uh. Nope. No, no, no…"

Eliot leaned back and held in another laugh. This would teach them to invade his privacy.

Yeah, it still hurt, what his dad did. But that wound was healing bit by bit.


	10. Handcuffs

**A/N: Merry Christmas! I am so sorry for the long delay! I've been super busy with my own personal issues and school and stress and things. Not to mention, my other story, Durin's Daughter, has gotten more popular than I thought so I was focusing on that for a while. Also, inspiration for this next chapter was slim and I was just…..yeah.**

 **But I'm back now and I have to get back on track. Once again, these one shots are based off of Anime Girl23 story 50 Sentences and I'm adding my own spin on her prompts, with her permission. I do not own her story, nor do I own Leverage.**

 **NONE of these one shots are related to one another unless specifically stated. Thanks so much for reading and I look forward to reviews and comments!**

* * *

It is a very well known fact to the Leverage team that a week off from any sort of clients, jobs, possible clients and jobs, or any other problematic issues within the team itself that needed to be resolved were few and far between. Nate tended to cram as much business as possible in as little time, leaving none to spare. Sophie mentioned a "winner's high". As a longtime gamer, Hardison could relate.

But this last week…there had been nothing. Not a damn thing. No pressing clients, no jobs, no internal affairs, nothing. The whole team had been on edge the first day into having nothing to do, which in itself wasn't that far out of normal. Their lives tended to be ones of constant vigilance and anxiety and paranoia (and extremely violent reactions, apparently). After the second and third day of absolute, God-given peace, Nate had officially called it and gave everyone the week off to enjoy. Oh, and Hardison enjoyed.

They all did, actually. Together. Despite having worked together for years now, they all tended to do their own things when it came to free time. Sophie shopped, usually dragging Nate behind her, Nate (if not with Sophie) was likely to be found doing any number off odd jobs or hobbies, Parker liked to bounce around the city, vary between the four of them, rappelling as fast as she could in an effort to set some sort of record, Hardison settled in with his Orange Soda and gaming system and went on a binge of WOW, and Eliot vanished into one of his safe houses and would not be seen or heard from again until their next meet up. He never said what he did, but Hardison had begin to notice that he seemed happier, more relaxed and at ease than at any other time. Parker, too, seemed more cheerful when Eliot was like this, and in turn, it made the rest of them happy to see their two more damaged members so comfortable.

So it was with a severe jolt of shock when, at the end of the week of gaming bliss, that Hardison watched Eliot enter the apartment HQ with his right arm bandaged tight to his chest and cradled in a sling.

Nate, Sophie, and Hardison were together and were waiting on Parker and Eliot. Sophie and Nate were all cozy on the couch, while Hardison pointedly kept his eyes on his laptop, praying that the thief and hitter got there soon. Half his wish was answered moments later when Parker, ever the daredevil, swung in through the window in the kitchen and landed in a crouch on the counter.

"Hey, finally! Where've you been, mama? I've been stuck with the lovebirds for the past two hours waiting for y'all to show-"

"Yeah, well, I'm here now. Keep your shorts on." Parker snapped and made her way towards the couch, opposite of Nate and Sophie.

"Hey, Parker." Sophie smiled at the blonde thief from the crook of Nate's arm. "What took you so long?"

What happened next was strange. This was the woman who's favorite hobby was jumping off of buildings, who loved to poke at Eliot's bruises, who was unashamed at her lack of social cues, and was extremely blunt for everything. This was Parker, who, right in front of their eyes, _blushed._

Hardison wasn't the only one who was a little shocked. Sophie's brow furrowed while Nate simply cocked his head and looked at Parker expectantly. Hardison just stared. Parker's pale porcelain face was still tinged pink when she was saved by the front door opening.

"Eliot, man, c'mere. We just asked Parker why she was late, and guess what. The girl is blushing, man. Do you know why-" Hardison called out to the lumbering hitter as he made his way into the apartment, but he was cut off by Sophie's squeal.

"Oh God, Eliot!"

To be perfectly honest, Eliot had looked worse. They had all seen him shot, bloody, bruised, torn and slashed, scarred, broken, and on more than one occasion, seriously hospitalized. But those injuries had happened while on jobs. They had been on vacation this time.

Eliot's hand and wrist was wrapped tightly in a tannish grey gauze, and his arm was held to his chest in a dark blue-black sling. His eyes were tired and dark, but Hardison saw something lighter in their depths…amusement? What the hell?

"What the hell happened man?" Hardison whistled.

Nate, so far, had said nothing. His face was passive and blank, like Parker's usually was in any situation, except today, her face was red with embarrassment and Nate's face seemed to have spotted an inkling of truth in the confusion as he sat back and chuckled.

"I fail to see what's so funny about this, Nate!" Sophie sent an admonishing glare at him, and then turned her cooing attention back on the uncomfortable hitter.

"I'm fine, Sophie, alright? Leave me alone. It was an accident." Eliot tried to brush off the grifter with a wave of his hand, except he tried to wave her off with his right hand. He hissed and suddenly everyone was on alert. Even Nate was eyeing Eliot closely.

"You're not fine."

Parker's soft voice caught their attention right after that, and Hardison felt like he was at risk of getting whiplash. Her blush had receded, but her normally pale face still retained a hint of color. Her eyes were wide and bright, but they were looking only at Eliot, who seemed to have forgotten his pain. His own crystal eyes softened at the thief, which was normal. They all seemed to have a soft spot for Parker (some of theirs softer than others) and her eccentricities. Eliot treated her…well, not exactly with kid gloves, but hardheaded hitter could be surprisingly gentle when he chose to be.

"Parker," the hitter's rough, gravely voice came out softer than the hacker expected. "I'm alright, darling. Really. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is!" Parker remarked, then she shut her mouth with a snap, her eyes wide with shock. Eliot, too, had that look that Hardison usually attributed to getting hit over the head with a steel pipe.

The other three were just as dumbstruck. Nate looked like he had just solved the mystery, with his smug bastard look, and Sophie was very close. Hardison would later say that he had known and had been struggling with denial, but the reality was he was as lost as the boys from Neverland.

"Um…does someone care to explain exactly why it's Parker's fault that Eliot's arm is in a sling?" Sophie carefully asked, looking between the blonde thief and dark-haired hitter expectantly.

"Nope." Eliot straightened up and shut down, and then they were all looking at Parker. Hardison could see Eliot's eyes looking calmly and confidently at the crazy woman, but honestly, who was he kidding? The woman was terrible with secrets, and they all could attest to that. They didn't have long to wait.

"Eliot and I are having sex!" Parker exploded, along with Hardison's head.

"WHAT?"

Not a lot of things could get a bunch of thieves worked up. Heists, money, police, and certain death were some of the very few things Hardison would include on that list. He just added "Eliot and Parker" to that list.

"Oh my God, Parker, since when? And what does that have to do with Eliot's arm?" Sophie exclaimed, caught between being ecstatic for her two lonely lovebirds and shocked.

"Um…" Parker gave that look again, that shy, blushing look where she peeked out from under her eyelashes and made every man give her a second glance. Maybe she knew more about social cues than they thought. Or Sophie's tips were finally being put to good use.

Eliot sighed, and Hardison was surprised to see him smiling fondly at her. He took a few careful steps down to where they were all waiting and made his way to where Parker sat. He sat on her left so his uninjured hand could take one of hers, which she clutched at ferociously.

"Truth is, Parker and I are sort of….together. That way, and like, a couple. You know?" Eliot spoke up, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Been about, what, six months now? Maybe a little less-"

"Four months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, forty minutes and thirty-two seconds." Parker rattled off and Eliot paused to chuckle, again with a certain fondness Hardison had never seen. This was so bizarre. Like watching Animal Planet live.

"Sounds about right. Anyway, so, yeah, like she said-"

"That is wonderful!" Sophie exclaimed. She had settled back into Nate's side, who was looking more amused by the second. "You two are adorable!"

Parker ducked her head, pressing it into Eliot's shoulder as he leaned back slowly. And Hardison could see it. He could see them. Eliot, the strong and silent hitter, the protector, and Parker, the small and delicate but not fragile thief. They were opposites and yet they worked so seamlessly. Yet…

"That still doesn't explain why your arm is all jacked up." Hardison pointed out, and he could see from the tightness in Eliot's jaw that he had been trying to avoid that particular detail.

"Hardison, I'm all for finally sharing our relationship here, but some things-"

"It's my fault. I didn't put the handcuffs on right."

"-are personal." Eliot finished with a groan, and now he was the one with the reddening face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Handcuffs?" Hardison could not believe his ears. He seemed to have been caught in a strange mixture of wanting to throw up, and laugh hysterically. He chose the second one. "No way, man. You serious? The all mighty Eliot Spencer submissive behind closed doors? Oh this is going on the company gossip column."

"Shut up, Hardison." Eliot snarled, but the venom wasn't as effective with his blushing face. Parker seemed to have returned to her blunt nature, looking on with slight confusion.

"What? What's so funny? I like handcuffs. It makes everything more exciting. And besides, Eliot already had some we could use and-"

"Okay, okay!" Nate interrupted at last. "That's enough of that. Eliot?"

The hitter sighed, knowing that the ridicule to come would certainly last for a long time yet.

"Fractured my wrist and dislocated my shoulder."

" I was wrong." Hardison amended, and everyone glanced his way. " _That's_ going on the company gossip column."

"Ooh, you can interview me!" Parker exclaimed as she settled into Eliot's side, who closed his eyes and groaned as the three other thieves laughed.


	11. Telling Parker Secrets

**A/N: Another update! I told you guys I was trying to be more persistent with this story. I'm juggling the finale of my other story with more chapters for this one do I'd appreciate reviews with how I'm doing and how you like these chapters. I do not own Leverage.**

* * *

Parker sat down at a small table at a little, nondescript coffee shop across from the Devlin Meyer's Corporate Offices, their current targets. They were doing general recon today, so she technically wasn't needed. Nate was back at their HQ with Hardison doing the online-techy-geeky-wifi stuff that she only pretended to understand cause Sophie said it was polite. The grifter herself was working on schmoozing the CEO, Charles P. Devlin, into a follow-up "meeting" while Eliot worked his way into the top offices to plant their devices. Normally, she would have been miffed that Eliot had gotten chosen to do the sneaky stuff, but if there were guards that Hardison had failed to pick up, then Eliot was the man to beat his way out with no problem. It's happened often enough.

So here she was, infamous thief and con-woman, sitting innocently at a café with nothing to do. She looked slyly at the oblivious people sitting around her, walking by, and driving down the street. They had no idea of who she was, what she's done, and the secrets she was hiding at that very moment.

Ooh secrets! Parker smiled serenely to herself. She loved secrets, especially if they were other peoples. And even more especially if other people told her their secrets willingly, like what friends do. It was almost as good as money because it was just as valuable to the other person.

Eliot was the first person on the team to tell her a secret, and that had made her stomach go all funny and she hadn't stopped smiling until Eliot had threatened to bring her along to his horse ranch and make her ride one. He had actually bought a ranch. Well, it was his uncle's but he kept it running and updated and cozy. She had been bugging Eliot for ages to tell her what he did with his share of the money from their first job and he had finally cracked. To be fair, it had been to either tell her or punch her, and Eliot Spencer doesn't hit girls. So he told her how he split it up. He used it on his ranch, a private plane and hangar, his other safe houses, bikes and cars and trucks, some security updates in general, and the rest he put aside for purposes no amount of nagging could get him to reveal. Still, it had been the most information she had heard the hitter reveal about himself in a long time, and the best part was, nobody else knew. She knew a secret about Eliot Spencer!

Then, Hardison had been the one to get close to her. It hadn't been a secret, per se, but Parker had noticed how awkward the hacker had gotten when talking about it so she guessed it counted.

They had been just sitting around, waiting for the other three to finish up their end of the job, which had been simple, all things considering. (Minor bruising, some improv, and a still breathing Eliot counts as a job completed successfully). To this day, Parker cannot remember how they had managed their way to that particular conversation, but she and Alec Hardison had been discussing World of Warcraft in explicit detail. She just couldn't understand how someone could devote themselves to a virtual online world when they could be looting and pillaging and rampaging in real life.

"Why steal a make-believe jewel when the Hope Diamond is just begging to be taken?" she had asked.

She had expected him to laugh, like Nate does, or smile patronizingly, like Sophie does, or roll his eyes, like Eliot tended to do whenever she asked something strange. Which was often.

But Hardison hadn't done any of that. He had given a small smile and shook his head, but it was out of sadness and lack of her own understanding that he did it. And it made her sad that he was sad. She wasn't good with emotions or crying or feeling things other than the rush of jumping off the Empire State Building. (But that is a story for another time.) But still…Hardison was her friend now and friends didn't let friends be sad. She didn't think so, at any rate. Parker hadn't had a lot of friends growing up.

Hardison told her all about World of Warcraft. He told her a little bit about his life growing up, and how his Nana had gotten him the game along with his very first computer. Alec Hardison explained how it had been a sort of escape where he could be anybody he wanted. He got to be strong and vicious and the hero or villain without hurting anybody. It allowed him to be himself at a time when he really didn't have a lot to be proud of.

It was a different secret from Eliot's, but Parker felt like Hardison hadn't told a lot of people about why he was so obsessed with the game. And in Parker's mind, that counted enough as a secret.

Surprisingly, Nate had been the next one to open up. Well, actually that's not true. Nate had been the next person she had "accidentally" eavesdropped on. Okay, maybe not so accidentally as it was a coincidence that they were in the same area at the same time. Okay, so she was following him.

He had been talking on his cellphone with somebody. She could tell by the way Nate's face was drawn and how his hand was twitching that it was somebody important. Nate's hand only twitched when he was craving a drink.

"Maggie….Maggie, you can't do that. We both agreed that-no, I haven't forgotten. And I know that you know that I haven't. Could you please just-Maggie, that money-Maggie. Will you listen? Maggie-because he was my son, too!" Nate had gone from being reserved to near yelling. "He was my son, Maggie. And that money….that's his. Not yours, not mine. His. We can't just….can we find something else? Please?"

Parker had stayed hidden in the shadows during this entire conversation. She wasn't entirely sure what Nate was talking about, but Maggie was his ex-wife. And if he was talking to his ex-wife about something concerning his dead son….it was a bigger secret than Nate was willing to tell anyone.

He still doesn't know she overhead him. It was kind of like a secret for the both of them. One that neither was ever going to tell.

Sophie had been the last to tell Parker a secret, and that, too, had been an accident, but this time, it was on Sophie's part.

The latest theatrical "performance" starring Sophie Deveraux had just been completed (Singing in the Rain) and they were all exiting the theatre at a perfectly normal pace (not at all like they were running for their lives for the sweet sound of silence). Parker had gotten a ride to the theater with Sophie so the actress could show her around backstage or whatever it was Sophie had been excited about. Truthfully, Parker just hadn't wanted to ride with the boys, who had been hyped up with whatever sport it was that they liked.

"Well, how did you like the show?" Sophie had asked the thief afterwards in her dressing room.

Now, Parker knew that she could be considerably blunt sometimes. She didn't see how lying could spare anyone's feelings when telling the truth got the point across so much faster. Except when they were in the middle of a con. But this was different. This was Sophie.

"It was….nice?" Parker was sure that her compliment had sounded more like a question, but it was the best she could do.

Sophie had laughed, which had been confusing. She wasn't angry or sad or disappointed that the Parker couldn't conjure up a real compliment for her performance as Kathy Selden. In fact, she seemed happy.

"What?" she had asked, a little offended.

"Oh, Parker. You're sweet." Sophie had grinned at her friend. "Thank you for trying. I know the show was horrendous."

Parker's jaw had literally dropped, and she was nearly positive that her eyes were close to popping out of her head.

"You know that you suck?!"

Well, that come out a little harsher than she had meant it too, but Sophie didn't seem to mind. In fact, she had just smiled wider.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Parker." Sophie had said, and Parker had leant in eagerly. "I know I'm not the world's best stage actress. Hell, I'm not even second best. I'm awful. I know Nate's told you that the theatrical stage isn't where I perform my best, and obviously you've seen what I really do. But I love the theatre. And I love to act, in an form. It makes me happy. So what if I'm absolutely terrible? I have wonderful friends who still show up to every performance and cheer for me and comfort me and help me rehearse without a single complaint. Plus, it's kind of fun making the boys work extra hard to pretend they like my performances. I consider these as character building experiences for all of you."

Paker had loved Sophie's secret the best, even more than Eliot's. It had seemed not more valuable, but more vibrant and full and just secretive. Sophie was always conning them all. She truly was the greatest actress.

"Hey."

Parker looked up as Eliot sat down beside her at the café's small table. She noticed his lip was cut, but other than that he looked in one piece. He didn't look angry either, so she supposed the recon had gone moderately well.

"Where's Sophie?"

"Ah, you know the actress. She has to finish her performance right." Eliot let out a huff that Parker knew was only half-hearted. If only he knew the truth….

"Hey, Eliot?"

The blue-eyed hitter turned to look at her, and Parker found herself simply looking back. There was something nice about this moment. It was just the two of them, two people who had so many secrets between them, simply sitting at a coffee shop in public like ordinary people do. And she really liked it.

But Eliot was still looking at her, waiting for what she was going to say. She thought of all the secrets she had. Some were his, some were theirs, and some were just hers. But they were all secrets, and she was going to keep them. For now. So instead, she smiled a small smile at the hitter, just shy of something real. His eyes lit up a little and he sent something shy of being real right back at her.

"Want some coffee?"


	12. An Empty Kitchen

**A/N: I told you guys I'd be updating! I appreciate every single favorite, follow, and review you guys leave me. So…here is another one-shot! Please review!**

* * *

"This is wrong."

"Parker, I don't know if you've noticed, but everything we do is wrong. As in, against the law. We do this for a living. Hell, I know you've done a lot worse than hustling a seventeen year old thug. If this is where you draw the line, man we got a serious-"

"No."

It was the emptiness in her voice, the absolute neutrality, that finally made Hardison look up from his computer and turn around. Parker was standing in the middle of the kitchen. That was it. Just standing. Hardison glanced back towards Nate and Sophie but they looked just as confused (and slightly worried) as he did. Parker was a little odd, sure, but she never went off the deep end. Unless that deep end was off a building, in which case she had her rappelling gear raring to go.

But now, Parker was simply standing in the spotless kitchen, doe-eyed, her blonde hair lank around her face. Her teeth nervously gnawed on her bottom lip. If Hardison didn't know better, he would say that her eyes looked suspiciously damp, but as he got up to join her, the dampness vanished and was replaced with what he assumed was a mix of confusion, disbelief and possibly anger. Sophie and Nate were close behind him until they were all cautiously standing in the kitchen.

"Parker," Sophie started to reach out to touch the thief, but with obvious effort, she refrained and drew her hand back. "what's wrong?"

"What, are we out of cookies or something? Your favorite brand of cereal?" Nate griped, wincing as Sophie punched him none too hardly in the ribs.

"Look. Smell." Parker motioned around them to the pristine kitchen, obviously agitated.

Hardison looked around. The counter was shining marble, the cabinets dusted and full of clean dishes, the oven cleaned out, the dishwasher empty, the refrigerator stocked. Hardison took a deep breath. He smelled bleach, cleaner, lemon scent. Nothing unusual or dangerous. Everything was exactly the same as it's always been. Exactly the way Eliot liked things.

And that's when it hit Hardison. It hit him so hard, it was painful, like he was on the receiving end of one of Sophie's stiletto boot heel kicks. Ouch. As soon as the realization hit him, he looked back round at the others and saw that they had reached the same conclusion he did.

While the kitchen was in it's ever pristine state, there were times that it wasn't. This early in the morning, it should have been one of those times. Usually, there was the smell of chives, chopped onions, cheddar cheese, bacon, avocado, lemon juice, tomatoes, paprika, and so many other smells it overwhelmed the senses. And there was the sound o food sizzling, water boiling, steam hissing, food being chopped, and the ever slightly annoyed growl of their resident chef. Who, incidentally, wasn't there.

"Where's Eliot?"

All three of them spoke at once. Parker was in the same position she had been in minutes ago: with a blank, wide stare, seemingly lost.

"Eliot is always here on time. He always cooks before he debrief a case. Eliot is always here. Why isn't he here?" Parker said in a small voice, her teeth gnawing at her lip, her hands wringing together nervously.

"Parker, I'm sure he's just…" Sophie started to say, but she trailed off just as quickly. She looked sadly at Nate and Hardison, and he knew why. Out of all of them, Eliot was the most secretive, and with good reason. He had lived a harder life than the rest of them, and as a result he was more guarded and uneasy to trust. Over the last month of working together, though, he had seemed to thaw out a little bit. He came over earlier in the morning to cook breakfast. He would pitch ideas, veto the bad ones, edit the ones that made the cut. Then, he'd cook lunch before they broke for the job, and when it was all over, he'd cook dinner. Eliot had seta routine of familiarity and they all had molded into it without question. No wonder Parker was so lost. One thing Hardison had learned about the odd thief is that when Parker gets into a routine, she is set for life. If it changes….Heaven help them all now.

"What? Where is he? Eliot is never late. Not without a reason. He makes breakfast, then we pitch ideas, then he does lunch, then we make the bad guys cry, and then he makes dinner and drives me home. That's how it is everyday. Why is today different?" Parker's voice had steadily been getting louder and stronger until she was more angry than lost. Then the moment passed, and she was back to looking like an eight year old who lost her mom in a crowded mall.

"Why is today the day the kitchen is empty?"

The four thieves looked at each other, each filled with an odd sense of something missing and not exactly knowing why it was that they were missing it in the first place. They were so caught up in this moment of profound early morning sadness that they missed the sound of the front door opening. They didn't hear the slow, heavy footsteps from the door to the main area, and as they reached the steps to the kitchen, and then silence.

"Why is everyone just standing around in my kitchen?"

Hardison whirled around, almost positive that his heart might stop from the sheer force of shock that southern voice had caused. Sophie, Nate and Parker all had similar looks of surprise and near heart attacks.

"Jesus Chi-"

"Eliot, what the he-"

"Dear Lord, you nearly gave me a-"

Parker didn't say a word. Instead she shoved them all out of her way and marched down right towards the hitter, who, to his credit, stayed where he was with only mild shock.

"You're late."

"Um," Eliot gave the thief his signature sanity check look and then motioned to the bags in his arms. "I stopped to stock up on groceries for later. You do know that the food doesn't magically appear in the cupboards and fridge, right? I actually have to go and buy the damn stuff."

Hardison finally took his eyes off the general fact that Eliot had showed up late to the bags he was carrying, There were six, three on each arm, filled to the brim with different foods and brand names that made Hardison's mouth water just looking at them.

Parker remained stoic, obviously trying to decide whether Eliot's excuse was deemed valid enough to miss coming in on time and cooking them all breakfast. It seemed Eliot, too, could guess where Parker's reservations lay.

"I'm usually here before you lot even get in, yeah. But this morning, I had to deal with some….unexpected visitors. Took me longer than anticipated to get them out of my hair, but by the time I did, I realized I was running late and I hadn't even restocked so I figured you guys could start without me. Not like you'd miss me all that much if I was gone an hour." Eliot took a quick sweep of their faces. "My mistake, then."

"Yeah." Parker hummed.

Without warning, she reached out and grabbed Eliot's neck. Hardison had the insane thought that she was trying to strangle him, even though Eliot could flatten the girl with his middle finger. But to his surprise, and everyone else's, Parker had reached out and enveloped Eliot in a monster hug, which was an impressive feat for a woman her size.

Eliot barely had the time to react before she pulled away. She had returned to her more natural blank, yet slightly crazed, look, though with the hint of a smile rimming the edges of her mouth. Then she hopped away down the steps and back towards the couch as if nothing had happened. The rest of them remained paused for a split second before deciding to let it go, and Eliot continued his way into his kitchen and began to unload the bags.

Hardison slowly got out of the hitter chef's way and returned to his computer. As a few minutes though, he paused and took a deep breath, strangely happy at the familiar aroma that now filled the entire space. Parker was right, in her strange way.

A kitchen should never be empty of its chef. It was just wrong. Especially when that chef was Eliot Spencer, and he was making the best damned pancakes the world has never seen.


	13. Pets

**A/N: This is on the sadder side, but it's a fluffy piece, I promise! I didn't really know how to end this one, so I hope you like it. Remember, I don't own Leverage. Please review!**

* * *

"I wanted to keep one." Parker grumbled from the back of the van where she sat with Nate and Eliot.

They had just finished a pretty emotional job. A crooked domestic and exotic animal clinic was scamming customers by diagnosing healthy pets with illnesses, charging hundreds for phony treatments and then euthanizing the pets anyway. It was…awful. They had fought with monsters before, but this had been the worst thing any of them had seen in a while. And the bad guys never would have been caught if a woman hadn't taken her ferret to another clinic for a second opinion.

The job had been surprisingly hard. They had managed to expose the entire clinic for animal cruelty, as well as siphon all of their assets, and take custody of all the remaining animals (a large amount of dogs, cats, rabbits, ferrets, hamsters, birds, reptiles, and even a small pony) and handle them safely to non-kill shelters and a nice ranch for the pony. But rescuing those animals had a price. And that was Parker.

To be fair, they had all gotten attached to an animal or two. Nate had shown great interest in a wounded Great Horned owl, who he called Tully. Sophie had cooed at a pure white ferret she called Draco, which Parker guessed was supposed to be a funny movie reference or something. Hardison had taken to a Dachshund puppy named Pip. Eliot, to Parker's surprise, had bonded with three animals. He had been determined to save the pony, Chet, as well as a calico cat, Tonks, and a Husky puppy he called Felix. It was kind of sweet, really, seeing all the helpless animals bring out their soft sides. But Parker…

"Parker, you put all sixteen rabbits down the front of your shirt, the hamster in your pocket, and then tried to free all the parakeets." Sophie said sternly from the front seat, though the note of amusement ruined her mother effect.

"Okay, so I wanted to keep a few." Parker relented. "So what?"

"Parker, your own diet consists of sugar, sugar, and primarily sugar. You live in an airplane hangar. How do you plan to keep a pet, or several, alive?" Nate questioned reasonably.

"Love." Parker replied simply, as if she was talking to a small child. In itself, that was ironic since that was the same tone people usually took with her.

"Pets cost money." Eliot shot back, though his blue eyes were soft.

"Oh. Right." Parker sat back against the van and chewed her lip thoughtfully.

There was a moment of silence in which all that was heard was Hardison's favorite radio station. It was country-rock, but hey, driver picks the music. It was the rule they all lived by, considering their wildly different tastes.

"Why'd you want so many, Parker?" Eliot said softly, once he had had enough of whatever wailing Texan drawl was coming out of the stereo. The blonde thief sighed and started to pick at her stubby nails.

"I've never had a pet before. I wanted to have one of my very own. All I ever had was Bunny." Parker sighed again, thinking of her childhood stuffed rabbit fondly.

Once again, the van lapsed into silence, but it was different this time. Parker could tell. Eliot had that faraway look in his eyes that said he was remembering, but the lack of pain and anger, as well as tension in his shoulders, said that he was remembering something good.

"When I was growing up, "he started, "I spent a lot of time on my uncle's ranch. So much time, in fact, that one summer, my uncle surprised me with a horse of my very own. A Thoroughbred, with this big white stripe down the front of his face. Man, I loved that horse. I named him Eddie."

"That's why you liked the pony from the shelter." Sophie mused from up front. "But why the kitten and the husky?"

"They reminded me of the other animals my uncle kept around. He had an orange tabby my sister named Sycamore and a border collie-husky mix my mama had named Demoya when she was a kid. They were…" Eliot paused, lost in one of the few good memories from his childhood.

"What happened to them?" Parker asked, enthralled. "Eddie and Demoya and Sycamore?"

"Um," Eliot cleared his throat and his light blue eyes darkened slightly. "well, Demoya was an old girl anyway and, well…she passed before my freshman year in high school. Sycamore…she was hit by a car a year later." Eliot stopped there, his eyes getting darker by the second.

"What about Eddie?" Parker said, a little scared for the answer, which she knew was not as simple as his other pets.

"My dad…"he took a breath, and then it all came rushing out. "My dad wasn't exactly happy that I was spending so much time with m uncle. When he found out that he had actually bought me a horse, it was the last straw. He…I don't really know what he thought, or why he thought it would change anything but…" Parker noticed that his eyes had a shine to them, and her chest hurt. "He took a shotgun and he…"

Eliot stopped there and shook his head. The whole van was silent. Parker's eyes were closed. She didn't want to picture little Eliot watching his daddy shooting his first and only horse. But she was. And it was worse than the shelters.

"I loved that horse." Eliot whispered.

"There was an owl that lived outside my mother's house." Nate spoke up. At first, Parker was going to say it was rude to interrupt (as she was told many, many times), but she realized that Nate was trying to take the attention off of Eliot. Parker nodded in understanding and let Nate continue.

"It was this big, grey owl that would come by every Friday afternoon like clockwork. I never named him, because he technically was a wild animal. But oh, man, he was like my best friend. I could not wait for Friday to come so I could just sit outside under the oak tree and watch him. And he'd watch me, and we'd be sitting there, and I would talk to him and he'd listen and then at around a quarter to six, he'd leave."

"What happened to him?" Sophie asked this time.

"I…"Nate paused for a second, wondering. "I don't actually know. One Friday, he just wasn't there. And I never saw him again. It crushed me." Nate heaved a sigh, suddenly awkward with his daily quota of sharing. "Sophie, Hardison? Any childhood pets?"

"Nah, man. My Nana was against all that fur and claws and teeth." Hardison spoke up from the driver's seat, having kept silent for the entire ride. "I had a goldfish when I was younger. Named him Pippin, like the circus musical. Man, I trained that little guy to jump through hoops and do a little flip and stuff." Hardison laughed, and Parker could picture the happy goofy smile he had plastered on right now.

"But?" Parker prompted, knowing that there was one in there somewhere.

"But nothing. He went the way all fish go. The way of the toilet. The end." Hardison snapped lightly.

"Oh."

Sophie hummed for a second before turning in her seat to face the others.

"I was in London posing as an aristocratic fashion critic for some of the more higher end clientele. You know, give a little advice here, and pocket a little souvenir there, the usual type of thing. And then I saw her. Her name was Mina and she was the purest, whitest ferret I had ever seen. She was practically royalty. So I took her." Sophie smiled, her pearly white teeth dazzling in the dim van.

"What happened to Mina?" Parker asked softly

"I gave her away." Sophie shrugged, but there was a wistfulness to her indifference. "I loved her. She was beautiful and rare, and you know how much I love both those things. But I couldn't take care of her. A pet requires time and care and cute little outfits. They tie you to one place. They mean commitment. I couldn't afford any of that. So I gave her to a nice family in Venice that promised to love her."

Parker frowned. These stories weren't what she had expected. She always saw kids with their puppies and they looked so happy. She had assumed everyone with a pet was like that. But hearing about Sophie giving her pet up, or the disappearing owl, or the flushed fish, or Eliot's dad shooting his horse. Those weren't happy memories.

"Parker?" Eliot's voice was soft. She liked when he was like this, all gentle and human. "Do you still want a pet? We could get you something small, like a bird or a hamster."

"No." Parker's confident dismissal surprised the hitter, and even Nate and Sophie looked a little confused. Hardison slowed down his speed so he could listen.

"Why not?"

"I have Bunny." Parker smiled her signature smile, a little off-kilter, and that seemed to ease the feeling in the van. 'And Bunny will be around forever. That's better than a real pet."

Nate nodded and simply turned his attention back to Sophie, who smiled. But it was Eliot Parker had her attention on. His face was impassive, but his eyes were shining. As the van pulled into the garage to their building, the hitter reached over and touched her arm. She met his crystal eyes curiously.

"You may be right, Parker." He said quietly, so low that Parker doubted any of the others had heard. She looked back to him and smiled, but this time is was genuine and sweet.

"Of course I am."


	14. Happy New Year

**A/N: Happy New Year! I hope your 2017 is off to a great start. Here is another Leverage chapter to celebrate! It's not my best, but I thought it would be kind of funny. Just a little bit of awkward team bonding! Please review!**

 **Inspiration comes from Anime Girl23 story 50 Sentences.**

* * *

It was a bad idea to begin with. Well, not so much the alcohol as the people who were drinking it. Okay, it was New Years Eve, which was a special occasion for getting completely hammered, but Nate had never gone hardcore drinking with his team of thieves before, and he was seriously seeing why.

Nate Ford would be the last to admit that a good whiskey may or may not be his Kryptonite, but he would always be the first to admit that he knew when enough was enough. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the first to admit that either, but he would admit it. Eventually. He was getting better. Anyway, Nate was sort of proud of the fact that as drunk as he always got, he never blacked out until he was safe in his own home. He may drive tipsy, but never fully drunk. He was a functioning alcoholic, after all. So when he sat on his couch New Years Eve with a bottle in his hand, he fully intended to lose his goddamn mind. But, two hours later, he sat there, full bottle still in hand, his mind intact, looking at his four friends with utter shock.

They had all shown up, like they usually do whenever he wants to take some time to himself, excited and raring to go for the New Year. Nate has expected the usual sighs and digs and whining about his drinking and had fully prepared a speech, but they never came. Instead, Hardison had pulled out every liquor bottle Nate owned (including his apparently not-so-secret stash) and began mixing drinks.

And now here they all were, laying haphazardly on the couch and floor, drunk off their asses. Except for Nate, who was still completely sober. It was weird. He had always considered Hardison a lightweight, seeing as all he drank was sugary sodas and sweeteners. But the hacker was actually doing rather well, working on his next round of Jell-O shots with Sophie. Nate knew Sophie could hold her liquor, but he had never seen her so off the deep end as tonight. Her hair was mussed and she was giggling uncontrollably, her tanned cheeks flushed as she took another shot. It was enough to urge Nate to take a good swallow of his own drink and move his attention quickly. Parker and Eliot were twisted up together on the other end of the couch. The two had been somewhat together for a short time, and obviously over the moon for each other. Parker was topsy-turvy drunk, her cracked smile wider than usual, her arms draped over Eliot's neck, her body trapped between his legs. Now, Eliot, Nate knew, had a thicker control than all of them. Getting drunk was something he was not comfortable with, as it dulled his senses and made him very dangerous to anyone around him as survival instincts kicked in. But, Nate saw with surprise, tonight he was relaxed. He wasn't drunk, not by a long shot, but he was tipsy enough to be laughing casually, tickling Parker and nuzzling her neck, his thick arms around her tiny body in a protective cuddle.

This was so weird. But it wasn't the bad idea. The bad idea was when Nate had seen the looks coming from Eliot and Parker's glazed eyes and he had decided to open his stupid, sober mouth.

"I swear to God, if you two start having sex on this couch, I'm going to shoot you."

"Ooh, Nate!" Sophie had gotten up off the floor and wobbled over to him. "Don't disturb the lovebirds. It's New Years Eve! The season of love!"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure that's Christmas. And Valentine's Day. But New Years? New Years Eve is the time-"

"To get drunk, have fun with friends, and love the one your with." Eliot's voice interrupted, muffled by Parker's deceivingly thick mass of blonde hair.

"Come on, Nathan." Sophie's British drawl was slurred. "Haven't you ever done something a little….scandalous? I'm not talking about a job. I meant for fun. Or have you always been such a sober stick-in-the-mud?"

"I wouldn't be sober if you guys hadn't come busting in." Nate muttered to himself. "And for your information," he turned to Sophie, "I was never a stick in the mud. In fact, I was always one for trying new things. I was adventurous. I was scandalous."

"Oh yeah?" Hardison laughed, too hard and too long, from the floor where he was now laying. "Like what? You lose your virginity behind the bleachers or something?"

Nate's face reddened, and unfortunately, not from any alcohol. That was, in fact, of what he was referring to, not that they needed to know that. Unless Hardison already did. Dammit.

"Seriously, Nate?" Eliot snorted, Parker's loud bark echoing after a moment.

"What, I was sixteen! And it was Cindy Housington, the hottest girl in school. And if you must know, she thought it was rather sweet."

Nate's red face was redder still as the drunken laughter built up and subsided a few times. This was awful. He could not believe he had just unknowingly confessed to his first time, and he wasn't even drunk! How…how did they manage to con him like that? Well, he could play that game too.

"Oh, yeah, Eliot? And what was your, big romantic moment? A classy hayride? On horseback? In a stable stall?" Nate added the little dig. Eliot thought they all didn't know what happened between him and that Aimee girl when they did the horse job? They had been wearing earpieces! Eliot did manage to look slightly bashful, but Nate was stunned to see him grin as wide as Parker. Man, alcohol turned Eliot into a teddy bear.

"Actually it was in a neighbor's barn. I was fifteen, and Aimee and I were bored and restless, so we-"

"I don't want those kinds of details, but thanks." Nate stopped the hitter there. In his relaxed state, Eliot would no doubt comfortably relay every explicit detail of his literal roll in the hay. Hardison let out another whoop from the floor, and the hitter's eyes unexpectedly narrowed.

"Watch it, Alec. I may be tipsy, but I can still beat your drunk ass with a throw pillow. You're not much of a fight on a good day. And besides, what are you laughing at? When was your first time? Last year at the Harry Potter convention?"

"Hey!" Hardison shot up from the floor, which was clearly a mistake as his face paled and his eyes suddenly bugged. He swallowed, and Nate had the sudden vision of him spewing all that Jell-O all over his rug. A moment passed, and Hardison's nausea seemed to subside for the moment.

"I'm good. I'm good. And it was Doctor Who, not Harry Potter, when I was nineteen, for your information, Spencer." Hardison spoke with the astounding confidence only drunks have, despite having partially proven Eliot's point.

"I was seventeen." Sophie said simply. Nate looked to her in surprise. He didn't even have to ask. "My cousin Eleanor was getting married, and her fiancé's brother was simply delicious, so during the reception, we snuck off to the hotel across the street and-"

"Thank you, Sophie!" Nate's voice was perhaps a bit too high, and a bit too rushed, but frankly, he didn't want to hear about Sophie's first time with a man she still described, even drunkenly, as "delicious".

It was fifteen minutes until the New Year, and everyone was starting to settle in for their final blackout shots. Nate looked around at his team and his eyes landed on the remaining member, who had been silent the whole time they were sharing experiences. She was currently wrapped intricately around Eliot, her head snuggled comfortably in his chest. Her eyes were closed, and there was a sweet smile on her lips. Eliot really made her happy, happier than money, and that was saying a hell of a lot. Nate hoped this New Year brought a lot of good things for the couple. They both deserved it. Suddenly, as if sensing she was being watched, Parker's eyes shot open and stared right back at Nate.

"Have you ever been rock climbing?"

The seemingly random question caught Nate off guard and he looked at her questioningly. Parker's smile got a little more wicked, and she winked.

"I was sixteen, and let me tell you. It's all fun and games until your cords get all tangled in the air , your clothes end up seventy feet below you in the river, and the side of the cliff scratches the hell out of your back."

She closed her eyes serenely and settled back down with Eliot, leaving Nate to wonder just how in the world she managed to have her first time hanging midair on the side of a cliff. There was a sudden loud cheer, and Nate looked at the TV he had forgotten was on and saw the array of fireworks and confetti that signaled the New Year.

A brand new year of new clients, new jobs, new dangers, new injuries, new memories, new bonding moments, new chances at love, new surprising revelations about each other, and a new chance at screwing over IYS.

"Happy New Year." Nate smiled around at his passed out team, and finally raised the bottle to his lips. "Happy New Year."


	15. Glasses

**A/N: Today is the last day of Christmas break, which means I won't be able to update for a while.** **But for now, here are some more Leverage moments. Inspiration comes from Anime Girl23 story 50 Sentences. I hope you guys review and enjoy!**

* * *

Eliot Spencer had been relaxing in his office when he noticed that they were gone. Normally, he always had them on him, but there hadn't been a lot of need for him to pull them out lately, so he had gotten into the habit of leaving them on his desk, right by his knife case. And that's where he had reached for them now, except they weren't there.

Eliot sat up a little straighter. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the rest of his personal space, but they failed to see the telltale glint of his missing item. Eliot frowned. Slowly, he stood from his chair and made his way towards the door leading to the rest of the apartment. Quickly, he looked around the room again, but they simply weren't there. Feeling like an old man, he checked his pockets, the collar of his shirt, and even the top of his head. Nothing. It wasn't much, but he felt a small bi of relief that he wasn't going senile at the age of 34. But where were they?

Eliot made his way out of his office and listened for the rest of his team. Their offices were set up all down one hallway, with his at the front for security reasons. The hallway was silent, but he could hear the flat screen TV echoing from the main room from where he stood. Slightly embarrassed, Eliot shuffled into the entrance behind his team. Nate and Sophie were by the window overlooking the city, whispering. They looked a little nervous, which peaked his curiosity. Did something happen while he was in his office? Eliot turned his attention to the hacker and the thief. Hardison was bent over something, his eyes squinting in concentration. Parker was bouncing next to him, her teeth tearing at her bottom lip. She was twisting her hair into a tight bun, but seconds later she would release it and do it all over again. Something was really bothering her.

"What's going on?" Eliot asked as he made his way towards the couch.

Now, they had been working together for some years now. Eliot had been very forthright that his specialty was not like the others, and they had both seen and listened to the kind of work he did, and he had been pleased to see that they had generally accepted it. After years of working side by side with the people he privately considered his family, Eliot knew that they trusted him to protect them from any danger, which sometimes included him.

So it hurt a little bit when, as he spoke, Parker yelped and dove behind Hardison, who rushed to cover whatever it was he was working on, and Sophie gasped and almost leapt into Nate, who had paled considerably.

"Um, are you guys okay?" Eliot furrowed his brow, now positive that something had happened to freak everyone out. They would never react to him like that unless something had happened.

Parker squeaked again from her hiding spot behind Hardison, who seemed more nervous than usual. Sophie and Nate had moved to stand behind them, and suddenly Eliot felt completely alone. He shook his head, trying to delay the spark of anger that was building in his chest. If they didn't want to tell him what was going on, tht was fine by him. He just wanted to find what he came in for and then they could get back to whatever it was they were hiding from him.

"Okay, you know what, forget it. I don't want to know." Eliot started to walk around them. "I only wanted to know if you guys had seen my-"

 **CRACK**

Eliot froze, one foot poised to take a step, the other firmly on the small pile of glass and twisted wires he knew used to be his glasses. He pivoted, wincing at the crunching sound of glass being turned to dust, and faced his team, whose faces had gone ashen.

"Please tell me that I did not just step on my glasses." Eliot was calm, very, very calm but they all knew, too well, that just underneath his icy exterior was a very explosive storm.

"You didn't step on your glasses." Nate assured, but Eliot had worked with the man for years, as well as run from him years before that. The man's tactics of evasion were in the few first pages of the team playbook.

"Nate-"

"He's right, Eliot. You didn't step on your glasses." Hardison spoke up hesitantly. "You just sort of stepped on…what's left of them."

Hardison moved aside a little bit and motioned for Eliot to look. What the hitter had assumed was some sort of gadget or gizmo microchip for something techy and beyond his hardwired capacities was actually a small pile of cracked glass and wires.

"What's left of…" Eliot was loosing his grip on his control. " Dammit Hardison! What the hell happened to my glasses?!"

"Now, before you go off killing people, man, you should know that this is technically your fault." Hardison held his hands up defensively, his smartass response blurting out before he could properly think. The three other team members exchanged looks and took some cautionary steps away from the hacker. Eliot looked close to attacking. He valued boundaries and respect of personal belonging above almost all else, so he tended to….

"How the hell is this my fault, Hardison? My glasses are shattered! I sure as hell didn't break them, so who did?" the hitter snarled, his foot grinding the glass on the floor into sheer powder.

"Well, actually, you were the one who left them in between the couch cushions." Sophie pointed out before moving back.

They were all quiet as Eliot thought this over. They had all been over last night to hang and celebrate their latest victory, which had included a two-for-one prize of screwing over Sterling just for the hell of it. The had broken out the sparkling cider (alcohol was temporarily banned) and had settled down for pizza and a movie. Eliot had seen _Scarface_ a hundred times, so while the other four watched intensely, Eliot had split his attention between the movie and the book he had been itching to read for a while now, _The Colony._ He had worn his glasses to read, but as the night wore on, things had gotten a little heated when they had watched _The Godfather_ followed by _World War Z._ He must have put his book and glasses on the couch and forgotten to pick them both up when they all left for the night.

"That still doesn't explain how they broke into a million little pieces." Eliot huffed. "Or why you guys look so guilty. Or why you were terrified when I walked in. Or why you just didn't tell me!"

The four thieves looked at each other a little sheepishly, and Parker noticeably reddened. Eliot's eyes narrowed, and the little remaining calmness from earlier dissipated quickly. Parker didn't embarrass easily, so that meant the truth of it was something even she was ashamed of in retrospect.

"We might have wondered, over the years, about your eyesight." Sophie said delicately. "Some days you wear the glasses, and some you don't. So when we found them just sitting there-"

"Are you saying you tried on my glasses?" Eliot asked, arching one eyebrow at the talented grifter. He knew her tricks almost as well as Nate's, and he knew she was gearing up for a long, interesting story.

"How long have you had glasses, Eliot?" Sophie answered his question with one of her own, and Eliot smirked.

"I got my first pair when I was three, and changed regularly since then. Don't avoid it, Sophie. Answer my damn question."

The grifter blushed and sat down on the arm of the couch. After a pause, Nate followed and then Hardison, with his pile of broken glass. Only Parker and Eliot remained standing, his eyes on Sophie and hers trained on her Converse.

"I only wanted to see how bad your eyesight could really 's horrendous really, I don't know how you can see at all-"

"I wear contacts, Soph. Since I was fifteen." Eliot interrupted her tangent with a pointed look. Her tanned skin darkened and she nodded.

"Right, well, I tried them on, and then Nate tried them next-"

"I didn't so much as try them as I peered into them as I took them from Sophie's hands to put them back. But then Hardison-"

"I'm sorry, but I will not apologize for my adorable curious nature. A beefy guy like you wearing tiny little specs like my Nana is too weird. I had to see, and man, you are legally blind."

"Tell me about it." Eliot muttered, crossing his arms. "I just about hated every pair I wore because of the taunts and teasing I would get every year at school. They only stopped once I was big enough to knock some sense into their thick skulls. That, and the contacts."

There was another branch of silence, which was almost comfortable. But Eliot knew the story wasn't finished, and he looked to the last team member who was still steadfastly avoiding his eyes. Slowly, Parker looked up and she visibly gulped.

"Hardison pushed me." Parker blurted.

"Wha-! No way. Nope. You ain't putting this on me."

"Well, you did! I took the glasses next, and all I said was that they were shiny, and then you said I was going to break them! I don't break things. I take things. I don't break what I take. Then they're useless to me. But then I dropped them and you pushed me and I sat on them and then…." Parker motioned limply to the obvious ending to her story. "We knew how much you value your personal things and boundaries and things like that, so Hardison was trying to see if it was fixable and Nate and Sophie were wondering if you'd kill us or just me, or just Hardison."

Eliot sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing one hand over his temple where a headache was sure to bloom any minute. These fools were going to kill him.

"Eliot?"

"Hm?" he answered without opening his eyes.

"If you wear contacts mostly anyways, why do you still have the glasses?"

It was a logical question. Nowadays, he rarely took his glasses out except when he was reading, so his reaction, while still expected, might seem a little over the top. He was silent for a few minutes, his fingers rubbing his temples soothingly.

"They help sell things, for the higher end jobs." Eliot said things at last. "The glasses help sell the grift when I'm stuck in a too-stiff suit and a too-tight tie. I…I just have them around, okay? I've had them around for a while. They're mine."

Eliot finally opened his eyes to look at his friends, his family, his team. They were all lost in their own thoughts, no doubt thinking about that one little thing that helped them out in a con. It could be a bottle, an accessory, a gadget, a crisp fifty-dollar bill tucked away. His were his glasses. He sighed again, and lifted his foot gingerly, his mouth twisting at the sight of the shimmering dust.

"Hey, man, don't worry. I can order some right now from the nearest store and have them here by tomorrow morning. " Hardison hopped off the couch and swung his computer into his arms in a single motion, already typing away. "I got a pretty good look at the make and model, for ya eyes, but if it ain't right, you tell me and I'll fix 'em right."

"Please, Hardison. Glasses are personal things. Eliot and I can go shopping for them right now. There's only sixteen eyeglass places within a few blocks, I'm sure we can hit them all before closing. Right, Eliot?"

"Sophie, I'm sure Eliot doesn't want to go shopping."

"Yeah. He'd much rather have me steal him a pair, right, Eliot?"

The hitter hid his wide smile from his quarrelling teammates. He bent down and swept the remainder of his glasses into his hand and walked towards the kitchen, where he let his face break out into a smirk. His body shook with repressed laughter as he listened to their arguments on who could better pay him back. Eliot knew he should stop and tell them now, but it was too damn funny. Plus, they deserved it for breaking the glasses in the first place. He glanced at his watch.

Fifteen minutes. He'd give them another fifteen minutes. Then he might as well tell them he had a backup pair in his truck for emergencies. But in fifteen minutes. This was just too funny.


	16. The Lost Family (Part 1)

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry, it's been a while since I've updated this story. I've been working on a lot of things lately, so I apologize that this story was pushed down the list a bit. Hopefully this makes up for it a bit.**

 **I wasn't sure exactly where I was going with this as I wrote it, and it's a little different than what I normally do. But here it is, nonetheless. I'd really appreciate feedback on what you guys thought.**

 **Leverage and all such associates do not belong to me. Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

It was one of their quiet mornings when everyone was off in their own world of thieving as they planned out their individual parts of their upcoming con. They were spread out round the main area and the kitchen, preparing in their own unique styles. Parker was, true to form, upside down on the couch shoveling cereal into her mouth by the handful as she scanned blueprints for the security firm they were casing. Nate was lounging next to her, his eyes on the big screens that held pictures of their target, Copper Branwell. He held a freshly opened brandy in his hand. Sophie was by the window, her lips mouthing words and lines to practice her role as the new Executive Head of International Security. Hardison was on the floor, his array of tech gadgets spread out around him like toys as he scanned the company's data and hacked through firewalls. Eliot was settled in the kitchen, his eyes easily glancing over personnel files as he finished making lunch for himself and the team. It was one of their rare, quiet mornings.

Suddenly, a shrill high-pitched ring interrupted their "studying". Nate choked on his brandy as Parker yelped and flipped over the couch, spilling her cereal all over the floor. Hardison's fingers jumped over his keyboard and suddenly, all his various devices were beeping and shrieking, causing Sophie to topple over in her too-high-heels and her papers went flying. There was loud crash from the kitchen as Eliot dropped the pans he was using to cook and dove for his ringing cell phone.

"Hello?"

The other four immediately turned to look at their flustered hitter. Parker popped up from the floor, her wide eyes interested. Hardison quickly shut down all his wailing gadgets and suddenly the apartment was dead quiet again.

"How did you get this number?" Eliot barked into the phone, but Sophie noticed that he was surprised rather than defensive. He must know the person on the phone.

"You know I can't do that. I'm sorry." Eliot seemed to be lost in his conversation with the mysterious person. His voice was soft and gentle, something none of them tended to associate with the gruff country hitter.

Slowly, Sophie led the others up towards the kitchen counter where Eliot was talking. They paused at the bottom step, looking up at their fellow team member. It was rare that they got to see the more personal side of Eliot Spencer, where he wasn't attacking somebody or brooding by himself. This Eliot Spencer was somebody that Sophie had a feeling didn't appear much in the real world.

"Look, I can't, okay? It wouldn't be fair to you, or Faith or Nicki. And Todd and Joseph sure as hell wouldn't understand. And what would I tell Caleb, Ashton, Chelsea, and Hayden? Just….I'm sorry, Tessa. Don't call me again."

And with that, Eliot ended the call. He sighed and hung his head for a moment, his long hair creating a dark curtain around his face.

"Eliot?" Sophie said gently, tiptoeing up the stairs and coming to stand next to the tense hitter. Nate followed her, his eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the call. Hardison and Parker curiously came up behind them, quickly sitting down across from Eliot and leaning eagerly forward.

"It was nothing, Sophie." Eliot sighed and looked up, smoothing back his hair as he did so. Sophie was stunned at the pained look his ice blue eyes held. Though he would never show it completely, his eyes couldn't hide the raw emotions underneath his stone mask. He looked as if his heart had just been broken.

"Who's Tessa?" Parker said bluntly, a tiny curl of jealousy piercing her words. "And Faith and Nicki and Todd and Joseph and Caleb and Ashton and Chelsea and Hayden?"

"Like I just said." Eliot growled. "It was nothing."

As if to spite him, Eliot's phone suddenly began to ring again. He glanced at the ID and Sophie could see the internal struggle he was going through about whether he was going to answer it. The phone rang again, and then a third time, and then Eliot's hand shot out from his side and slid the bar to answer it.

"Tessa, I told you-" Eliot started, but he suddenly broke off in shock as the voice on the other end spoke up. They all watched with excited interest as Eliot's face was wiped clean, like a blank slate, and he suddenly broke into a wide, crooked smile.

"Well, hey there sweetheart. How are you? That's wonderful." Eliot's blue eyes were sparkling, as he spoke, clearly to someone young, like a child. Sophie's eyes widened, and she started to smile as well.

"I miss you too, honey. I know. I know. Hey, let me talk to your mommy again, okay? Thanks, Chelsea. I love you too, baby girl. Bye-bye." And as quickly as it had come, Eliot's smile was gone. "That was low, Nicki. Even for you three. It doesn't change anything, though. No, listen. I just can't. Things aren't good for me there. I…I have a life where I am, Nick. I'm….I'm happy, as much as I can be. It's better this way-yes, it is. I'm sorry."

There was a long moment of silence, in which Eliot closed his eyes and looked as if he were preparing to take on a great deal of pain. Sophie looked over at Nate, Parker and Hardison, who looked like she felt: confused, sad, and just a little bit shocked at this revealing moment. Finally, Eliot sighed and spoke again, his voice low and regretful.

"After today, this phone number will no longer be in service. I'm sorry you spent the money. Trust me, I wish I could explain things better. All I can say is that it isn't safe to have contact with me. I'm doing this for you. I am so sorry. Tell that to everyone. Goodbye, Nicki."

As Eliot hung up the second time, he turned his hardened eyes to his expectant teammates. One by one, he locked eyes with them, his evident disdain and anger at the blatant lack of privacy.

'That really didn't seem like nothing, Eliot." Sophie prodded softly. "Who is she?"

"Who are they, you mean. There was a lot of girls names in the list you rattled off." Hardison accused pointedly. "And you seemed pretty familiar with a few of them."

"What are you trying to say, Hardison?" Eliot whirled on the young hacker, the fury written evidently on his face, which was a clear warning sign. If Eliot's emotions were out in the open, then he wasn't holding anything back. Unfortunately, Hardison didn't see that.

"I'm just saying man. You've been around the block a few times. You seemed pretty cozy with a couple of them girls, and that one you were sweet-talking seemed pretty open to-"

Hardison never got a chance to finish his thought because Eliot dove over the counter in one swift move and tackled him to the floor. Sophie screamed and leapt back. Parker was suddenly on top of the counter, her eyes wide and fearful. Nate was frozen as he watched Eliot twist Hardison around, the hacker squealing and yelling for help as Eliot essentially locked his arms and legs into a pressed submissive position on the floor, his knees in the center of Hardison's back, one hand holding down his head and neck and the other hand clenched in a fist.

"Don't you ever let me hear you say that about her ever again, do you hear me, Alec? Or so help you God, I will tear you limb from limb and hide the pieces cross-country so that no body will ever put your Humpty Dumpty back together again. You hear me?"

"Yes, yes I hear you! I'm sorry!" Hardison wailed. Eliot didn't move for a second, and Sophie wondered if he would simply carry out his threat here and now. Finally, in one fluid movement, he leapt up backwards off of the poor tech, breathing hard. Stumbling, Hardison clambered to his feet, rubbing his neck.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry, man." Hardison mumbled, his eyes still full of fear at being the potential victim of Eliot Spencer. Eliot, seeming to have reigned in most of his control, nodded his head apologetically at his friend.

"Look. I don't like talking about this too much. Those people…they're part of a life I left behind a long time ago." Eliot said softly, his hair once again falling into his face. Sophie itched to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ears, but that gesture most likely would not be received very well.

"They're your family."

Nate spoke with such a surety, such confidence, that Eliot couldn't even have objected if it was even false. Sophie has known from the moment Eliot had gone all soft with the girl, Chelsea, on the phone that these were people he loved dearly, people he missed. Eliot looked up, locking narrowed eyes with Nate's waiting ones. Hardison and Sophie exchanged their own curious glances while Parker kept her keen gaze settled on the hitter.

"They were." Eliot said slowly. Sophie could see that he wasn't sure how to present them with the rest of the open information, and she started to gently pry him loose of his closely guarded explanation when Parker piped up.

"But who are they? Like is that Tessa girl your second cousin twice removed, or is Nicki your ex-wife, or maybe-"

"Tessa and Nicki are my sisters." Eliot cut Parker off with a wave of his hand, but his eyes flickered with a small amount of amusement, and he shot the blonde thief a tiny smile of thanks. "Tessa is the oldest, then Nicki, then myself, and then my little brother, Joseph."

"Okay." Parker said slowly. "That's plausible."

'That's the truth, Parker." Eliot rolled his eyes and leaned his back on the kitchen counter, his arms crossed defensively. Sophie reached out a hand placatingly and decided to move on before Parker could start off another blunt argument.

"Then who are the others? Todd and Faith and Chelsea and Caleb and Ashton and Hayley?"

"Hayden." Eliot corrected, but the grifter saw his features soften at the mention of the name. Whoever these people were, they had been good for Eliot. "Todd is my sister Nicki's husband, while Faith married my brother, Joseph. Ashton and Hayden are Nicki and Todd's kids. They're twins, and about sixteen years old now. Caleb is Joseph and Faith's little boy. He just turned seven."

Eliot grinned impishly, his blue eyes lighting up as he talked about his sisters and his nephews. Sophie looked back at the others and saw that they were smiling right along with him. Eliot never shared this much about himself, ever. Family was the one thing they never talked about, and his always seemed to be a little rockier than most. But it was clear now that some things had been good.

"Wait, hold up a second." Hardison finally broke up Eliot's reverie about the time when Ashton and Hayden had decided to rig their mothers blow-dryer to an air horn. "What about Chelsea? I'm guessing she's your niece?"

All eyes were back on Eliot, who bit his lip and sighed.

"Chelsea…yeah, she's my niece. A sweetheart. Tessa adopted her when she was born about four years ago. Tess…she'd always wanted a baby, but with her job and our family, she never settled down. So she adopted. Chelsea is the only baby girl in the family and…she's a sweetheart." Eliot sighed again, a different smile resting on his lips as he remembered this baby girl from his past. "Her birthday is this Saturday."

"Is that why Tessa called?" Parker spoke up again, but this time it was with a quiet voice to match Eliot's. Sophie wanted to smile, but refrained. Her lessons with Parker about reading people's emotions were paying off.

"She paid an old contact of mine to give her my new cell number. She wants me to come home to celebrate with the rest of the family. Everyone."

"Excuse me if I missed a step, but why exactly can't you? The job'll be done by Thursday." Hardison gently added.

'If we don't get arrested. Or kidnapped. Or shot. Again." Parker mumbled

"That's exactly it." Eliot pushed away from the kitchen and began to walk away towards the couch, giving himself room to pace. "Our line of work isn't exactly family friendly. Hell, my job alone is like a death sentence on a rotating timer. The people I stole from, the enemies I made, and even the people I used to work for are not the kind of people who forgive and forget. They take whatever leverage they can and they bleed you dry. We already got Maggie mixed into our jobs once before and she nearly got arrested for it. I can't put my family through that. It's one of the reasons I cut ties in the first place when I realized what I was going to do. They…they have a life that's safe and easy. I can't let them get mixed up with me. I won't. It's better that way."

Eliot stopped pacing as the last of his confession left his lips. His eyes were burning and he blinked quickly to stop the traitorous tears from making an appearance. The apartment was quiet, the whole team thinking over what he had said. Of course, Eliot's separation was something noble and completely reasonable. That didn't make the thought of it any easier. Parker got up from her seat, and before she had a chance to think, she bounded down towards him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"I get it." She whispered. "You're the protector. It's your job. Just know two things. One, we're your family, too. That's what you told me. You taught me that."

Eliot's arms moved on their own accord and wrapped around her petit waist and clutched her to his body. He rested his head in the slender crook of her next, and breathed in the scent of New York, cherries and chocolate chip cookies. Huh.

"And what's the second thing I need to know?" Eliot whispered right back.

He could almost feel her smile on his shoulder as her always bluntly honest voice replied, unusually gentle and sweet.

"It's not forever. One day, you'll be able to go back and see them. All of them. I promise."

Eliot blinked a few times, those goddamn tears pushing hard. His breath caught, and he held his thief closer to him, his head nuzzled, and let out a huff of laugher.

"Okay, Parker. Okay."


	17. Going Home (Part 2)

**A/N: Okay, so this is a continuation of the previous prompt due to a request. I know people are interested in my take on Eliot's family life, so I am going to carry the topic over into the next several one shots.**

 **Please review, and enjoy!**

* * *

"It's Thursday."

Eliot looked up to see his whole team standing in front of him. He had settled into the corner of the L-couch with a new book, _Weapons of the Ages,_ and had barely cracked the spine when he found himself cornered on all sides. Normally, this would have enacted his survival instincts and he'd have started to rev up and fight his way to free space. However, he was getting better at not doing that when it was just his teammates. Now, he wished he had a little less self control seeing as he was now surrounded on all sides: Sophie and Hardison were slightly behind him, leaning over the back of the couch to see his face, while Nate and Parker were crouched in front of him. He eyed Parker now, who had her arms crossed, her eyebrows raised as she waited for a reply. He knew what she was referring to, and he knew what answer she wanted to hear.

"Parker, why are you pressing this?" Eliot sighed and put his book down. Ever since his sister had called earlier in the week, and the resulting confrontation with his team, he had known that they wouldn't just let it go. As it was, it had been too much to hope for when, after that day, hey hadn't mentioned it again and instead just began the new job. The job that they just finished…with three days to spare.

"Because, Eliot," Sophie said, "they're your family."

"And that's exactly why I said no, and why I'm still saying no, Sophie." Eliot could feel the beginnings of a headache pushing to the front of his mind. "They're my family."

"But…what was her name? Chelsea? She's going to be really upset, man. It's her birthday. And it sounded like she really missed her Uncle Eliot." Hardison said gingerly, and Eliot couldn't blame him. He still hadn't exactly forgiven the hacker for insinuating what he did earlier in the week, despite not knowing who it was that Eliot was talking to. But if he ever called anyone in his family a "one night stand" again…

"She'll spend it with people who aren't wanted in over seventy countries worldwide. Who aren't international killers." Eliot knew he had no right to be bitter about this. He had had choices and he made them, just like everyone else did. But some days…it hit him how much his decisions sucked sometimes.

"Come on."

"Dammit Hardison, let it alone."

"You wouldn't." Parker's voice was sharp, which is what caught his attention, but the look on her face was thoughtful, as if she had only just figured out something…not important maybe, but rather intriguing.

"Huh?"

"Eliot, if it was one of us in this situation, you would be telling us to go and see them because in our line of work, every time could be the last time, so you don't want to leave it – leave them wondering why. Because you already know how it feels to lose that contact and it hurts. And you promised that you would never let us hurt, Eliot. Not if you could help it."

Eliot stared. They all were staring at Parker. What she had said…it was deeply thoughtful and analytical, especially for her. He wold have been less surprised if that same speech had come from Sophie or Nate, but when it came from the blonde thief in front of him….Eliot knew she was right. And he could feel his resolve weakening. Damn.

"Don't look at me like that." Parker snapped to the rest of them, and they all awkwardly cleared their throats, trying to get back to the matter at hand.

"She's right, Eliot." Nate said finally.

"Look, Parker, I appreciate the concern-"Eliot started but once again, she surprised him.

"I made a promise to you, Eliot. I promised that you'd get to see your family again. And dammit, Eliot, I'm keeping that promise."

There was another small silence, except they were all smiling at Parker a little this time. Her arms were crossed and her bottom lip was pouted out and in that moment she looked more like a stubborn toddler than a slippery thief in her twenties.

"Dammit Eliot?" Hardison questioned curiously. Parker shrugged.

" I felt a moment there, and I took it."

"Eliot," Sophie cut in again before things went off on a tangent, "we could come with you, if you'd like."

Eliot sighed again and rubbed at his face. They were wearing him down, he had to admit. Fuck. This wasn't going to be pleasant. He hadn't planned on ever going back, especially after….well, Tessa had mentioned that he wasn't going to be around. But still…this was home. He had a life here, and not a bad one at that. On one hand, he never wanted his family here to see what his family _there_ was like and how they were and used to be and all that. But on the other, he didn't hate the idea of not going alone, just like he didn't hate the idea of seeing those kids again.

"It's not going to be like your normal family get together. You know that right? It's a bumpy road to where I lived." Eliot spoke slowly, trying to let them know what coming with him might entail.

"Man, do any of us look like we came from any kind of qualifying normal family types?" Hardison asked, raising an eyebrow. "Nah, man. We in for the crazy all the way."

"Fine." Eliot snarled, though he knew that they knew that it was just an act at this point. He had a reputation to uphold, if only in appearance. "You win. I'll go back home for Chelsea's birthday. But we leave right after that."

"Yes!" Parker leapt to her feet, her whole face lighting up in a bright smile. "Told you he'd cave. You owe me two hundred dollars."

Eliot turned to stare incredulously at the stammering hacker. Sophie and Nate let out barely contained laughter as they slipped around the three of them, presumably to help each other pack….or something along those lines.

"Listen, man, Eliot, to be fair-"

"You bet against Parker?"

"Shut up."

* * *

"So what's your family like?" Sophie asked Eliot. They were all settled comfortably on Eliot's private jet. They used it exclusively for traveling nowadays, when the clientele was further then Lucile could manage. They had just taken off and Eliot guessed they'd be in Oklahoma by nightfall.

"Complicated." The hitter replied vaguely, hoping that the grifter would get the hint and stop pushing. They'd already gotten him to go back home for the weekend. What more was she looking for?

"I'm sure we can keep up with it all. Spill." Nate moved from his place at the mini bar (still no alcohol) and sat beside Sophie. Parker was sprawled on the couch opposite and Hardison was working on the "Wi-Fi in the sky" problem Eliot's plane apparently had.

"We're close." Eliot started, and he smirked a little as memories came up unbidden. "Or, at least, we used to be when I was growing up back there."

"What happened?" Sophie voice was kind and gentle, kind of how his Momma used to sound. Eliot swallowed, hard.

"I was eighteen and I wanted out. Joined the service first chance I got. Kind of went against the plans my family had been making for me. Got into it with my pop the night I was set to leave and…well, I haven't been back since." Eliot didn't look at any of them. He couldn't. It was a hard set of memories, and they weren't even the nastiest ones in his lifelong repertoire. But they were awful in a way that was unique to the hard life lessons of family.

"Eliot…"

"It was bad, okay? What we said. There's no fixing that." His tone left no room for argument, and it was clear that he didn't want to continue with that line of questioning. They were still stuck together for a few more hours on a plane that was thirty thousand in the air. Add that with a brooding hitter who knew how to effectively dismember a body with only an apple and a stopwatch, and it wasn't going to be a pleasant ride.

"What about the rest of your family?" Parker asked after a while, and he looked over at her. She was still sprawled out, but her bright blue-green eyes were alert and looking at him curiously.

"What about them?"

"Come on, you big lummox. Tell us about them. What are they like?" Parker snapped. Eliot knew how she felt about the country, especially since his family was notorious for their horses. Well, part of his family anyway. Eliot sighed. He was already this deep. How much further would it hurt?

"Well, Tessa is the oldest, I told you. She's the epitome of big sisters, let me tell you. She always had my back, no matter what kind of trouble I found myself in. Things with our parents weren't perfect, so she was kind of like a second mother to me, too. Always knew what I needed." Eliot smiled as he thought of his big sister. "Yeah, she's certainly a whip of a girl. No one messed with us as kids thanks to her. Tough as a pit bull, and just as sweet." He laughed.

"Sounds like my Nana." Hardison grinned a little. "Insult one of her kids, and she'd as soon as beat your ass before you walked ten steps. But she's an angel of a woman."

"And then there's Nicki." Eliot continued. "She was usually the one to get me into the sort of trouble that Tessa had to bail me out of. Man, we used to get into so many tight spots, Nicki and me. Didn't matter that she was older than me. We did everything together. She was my best friend for years. We'd go riding down the trails after dark, or sneak into some of the adult movies playing at the Cineplex. She's a hooter."

"She sounds like fun." Parker hummed to herself. "I think I'd like her."

"I think so too, Parker." Eliot smiled at the thief, and she let out a soft happy one in return before he continued is list. "And then there was me, of course. And my little brother, Joseph."

"I bet he adored his big brother." Sophie said sweetly, but Eliot let out a barking laugh and her face fell slightly. "What?"

"Joseph and I hated each other for the longest time when we were kids. He was sick of his big brother sticking up for him all the time, always fighting his battles. I was just sick of the kid getting beat up because his smartass mouth was always making enemies with kids that were three times his size." Eliot shook his head. "He was a freshman in high school when I was a junior. By then he realized that the protective older siblings come with being the baby of the family, and we got into a nice solid friendship."

"Didn't you say there were others? Your sisters' husbands and your brother's wife? Plus their kids?" Nate spoke up after a small pause. Eliot was once again caught up in some of his older memories from his childhood, his teen years. Back when life had seemed to small and simple and easy.

"Todd Morris married my sister Nicki almost right out of high school. They were sweethearts all four years, and about a month before graduation, my sister found out she was pregnant. They got married about three weeks after they graduated. It was small, and my dad wasn't all too pleased about it, but it was said and done and when Ashton and Hayden were born, I swear they were the sweetest things I'd ever laid eyes on. Twins, nearly identical. Except Hayden's ears a too big for his head, and Ashton's front teeth are crooked." Eliot explained and he laughed then, lightly, but with a bit of sadness at the thought of his nephews, who he hadn't seen or talked to in so long. For all he knew, they didn't even really remember their Uncle Eliot. They were teenagers now, too. A hard time.

"And Joseph married a girl named Faith, right?" Hardison prompted and Eliot returned back out of his mind.

"Yeah, a woman named Faith Proctor. I've never met her, but we talked a few times before I cut contact. I used to talk to them all. Haven't for years because of other reasons. But Faith…she's good for my brother. She doesn't take any bullshit he might try and pass, but she's a good soul." Eliot could almost hear her voice, that light laugh of hers that made him think of bells and every time he was so damn proud of his brother for stepping up for her and their kid. "And Caleb, their son. He's seven now, but he's smart. Really smart. He was the only one that ever came close to really figuring out what it was I did. Just about gives his parents a run for their money."

"And then there's Chelsea." Sophie finished, and Eliot sighed.

"Chelsea. I told you, Tessa adopted her because she had a hard time settling down, but she wanted a baby so she adopted Chelsea. She's the only baby girl now in the family, and she's spoiled rotten, I bet. Tessa had had her before I left and…." Eliot swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "I love that little girl. And she got so attached to me that when I left, I knew it hurt her worse than the rest of them. And I used to call her and send her letters but eventually I had to stop because of the enemies I made."

Eliot looked up at his team and he knew that they would see the hard anguish in his eyes, but at this point…he had revealed so much, that there was no point in trying to hide this, too.

"I appreciate what you are trying to do for me. But I told you once that my life isn't yours to fix. This….this could end up hurting them worse than when I left the first time. I haven't been back home since I was eighteen and then suddenly I show up with four people in tow, looking like an oddball gang, just for Chelsea's birthday, when I missed so many before that? I missed Caleb's and Ashton's and Hayden's. My brother and my sisters….my in-laws, too, I missed everything for them. They have a life without me, and dropping in like this…"Eliot stopped, breathing hard. He didn't know what to say.

There was a swooping sensation in his stomach, and he noticed that the plane was descending at last. He looked out the window to see the land he had grown up on all those years ago. This was it. He was home.

* * *

 **To be continued in the next oneshot. Please review!**


	18. Family Reunited (Part 3)

**A/N: This is a continuation from the last chapter. Eliot and the rest of team Leverage have traveled to Eliot's hometown to visit with his family for his niece's birthday. This is a longer chapter and it's pretty fluffy, and not my best work.**

 **I don't own Leverage or any of the characters involved. All of the names of Eliot's family members, however, are my own characters that I made up.**

 **Please review! Don't be afraid to PM me with one-shot suggestions.**

* * *

Eliot couldn't believe that he was back. They were driving down this dusty brown dirt road in Oklahoma in one of his emergency vehicles he had kept in a secure building on the side of his private airplane hangar. The others had been shocked to say the least that he had a plan in place already for getting to his house, seeing as they had assumed that when he meant he hadn't been back home, he had meant the entire state of Oklahoma.

Eliot sighed. The truth was that he had security measures and emergency vehicles of every kind stashed not only cross-country but worldwide. Just in case things went south and he had to disappear fast. And with him, things always went south at some point.

"Eliot, which way?" Hardison's voice called from the cab of the truck. He, Nate, and Sophie were riding up front, while Eliot had chosen to sit in the bed with Parker, mainly so that when she hung upside down off the side, he could hold her knees in place so she didn't go flying. The separating glass window was popped out – Parker had tossed that about eight miles back – so they could call back when they needed directions. He hadn't been back since he was eighteen, but, hell, Eliot remembered these roads like the back of his hand.

"Uh, take the left turn up here and keep going for about a half mile or so until you see a busted red mailbox on the right." Eliot recited the directions almost automatically. He wasn't sure if things were still the same. For all he knew, his dad could have tossed the mailbox, or at the very least, fixed it up and repainted it. But in the eighteen years he had lived here, from the time his Uncle Charlie had crashed the tractor right up over the thing, no one had ever seemed to give a damn about fixing it. His mom said it gave the place a little more "country character". She wouldn't have let them change it. And he was right.

Soon enough, Hardison eased the truck over to the side of the road right next to that weather beaten, crooked tin can with the name " **KANE** " written in bold black letters on the side. Hardison turned off the ignition and they all sat in silence for a minute. Eliot listened to the crickets chirp hidden in the brush and the soft calls of the hoopoes that filled the air as they dove from tree to tree and across the open sky.

"Eliot?" Parker leaned forward to touch him, but when she saw the look in his eyes, she recoiled back slightly and pulled her hand away.

"Nate, let me see your phone."

The older man said nothing, but passed his cellphone through the opening in the back and Eliot took it gently. He flipped it open and sighed heavily as he started to punch in the familiar number.

"Who's Kane?" Sophie spoke for the first time in hours, her British accent lilting like the wind on the tall reed grass. Eliot paused in typing the number, his breathing labored and he knew his team was watching him, but this was almost too much. He was a private man. He had a lifetime of secrets, some darker than others, but none as personal as those he had shared with his team over the last week. The secrets of his family, his life before the service. And there was still one more secret, one that they had to know. But it led to many more problems than just what he was ready to deal with at the moment.

"I need you guys to understand something." Eliot spoke slowly and softly, but he knew that he had their attention. "I've lived a dangerous life. I've got a lot of enemies just itching to take me out. The names I've had over the years….some don't last long, some are just for a job and then over with, but other names…I hold onto the ones I've solidified in a way that makes me an asset to very important people."

"Like Eliot Spencer." Parker said, and Eliot couldn't bring himself to look at her, or any of them. It wasn't like they didn't have aliases. Hell, Parker didn't have a full name, and they all knew Sophie's real name was a secret well kept. But his…Eliot Spencer was a name he had decided fit him well enough to keep. He had reinvented himself with that name. For all intents and purposes, it was his real name because it was the name that embodied all of who he become over the years, especially with this team.

"Yeah." He whispered. "Like Eliot Spencer."

"So your real name…" Sophie started to ask but Eliot cut her off.

"Look, it's not like you're going to be talking to my family anyways. You're staying in the truck. This is short. But…" he sighed. "They're going to call me Christian. "

That's all he said and after another moment where nobody spoke, and he didn't dare, even then, to look at any of their faces, Eliot continued punching in the numbers. At the last number, he took deep breath and held it to his ear as it began to ring.

* * *

Parker studied Eliot as he waited for whoever it was to pick up. She could tell he was uncomfortable. She would be to, if she was going back to her childhood home and bringing her team to meet her family. Except her childhood home exploded in a mysterious fire (that she set) and she had no idea where her biological parents were. Most likely dead.

"It's me." Eliot spoke in a quiet, gentle tone, his southern accent coming out just a little and Parker couldn't help but be a little bit jealous. Eliot only rarely spoke like that with them, or to her, but these people who knew him had gotten it all the time. They had gotten the real him. Parker supposed that the man they got, "Eliot Spencer" was the result of the world's beatings. It wasn't fair.

"I'm not staying. I'm coming up the drive with a few friends. No-no, I can't. You promised me, Tess, and I'm going to hold you to that. I don't do crowds, not even with family. Well, it's the way it's got to be. Yeah, that'll work. One at a time, too. I have to say some things. Okay. You'll hear it pull up. Bye." Eliot had this whole conversation in a low hurried tone, and Parker could kind of hear the other person trying to reason with him, but if there's one thing Parker definitely knew about the man in front of her, it was that there was no reasoning with him when he made up his mind, especially when it came to people he loved.

Eliot clicked the phone shut and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. Right after, though, he made everyone jump by banging his fist on the roof of the truck.

"Hardison, let's go."

"You've got it, man." Hardison said as he started the truck up again. Slowly, he pulled away from the curb and swung around past the mailbox and down the dirt driveway that was partly hidden by underbrush. Parker sat with Eliot in silence, not really sure what to say. Emotions were not her thing, they were Sophie's.

After a few minutes, a house came into view. It was a plain white style house, with a front porch and a swing. There was a barn somewhere in the back, Parker could see the red roof, and a dog was barking in the distance. There was a fence around the side of the house, and Parker noticed that all the window shades were drawn. It was quiet, and peaceful, but Parker couldn't help but feel exposed in so much open space. She liked cities best – with the tall buildings that were perfect for rappelling and the smells and the broad variety of museums, banks, and so many other shiny things all ripe for the taking.

Hardison pulled the truck up until they were a close enough to the house, but still a good distance from the front porch steps. He turned off the ignition and then the silence seemed loud again. Eliot sighed and hopped out the bed. He walked to the front and opened the passenger's door, motioning for Sophie to get out. She did so, confusion plainly written on her face.

"All of you get in the back. My sister wants to see the people I'm bringing, that's all. No talking." Eliot sent a glare at Hardison, then Sophie, and then at her. Parker frowned when he skipped over Nate, and Eliot softened his gaze at her.

"Please. You're the ones who dragged me all the way out here. The least you can do is this, okay?"

"Okay, Eliot." Nate nodded, and Eliot grimaced.

"I told you. They're going to call me Christian. So don't blow this." Eliot glared again at Hardison and Parker, but this time she saw the nervousness underneath.

No sooner than the four of them had settled down again into the bed of the truck than there was the distinctive sound of a screen door opening. Eliot whirled around and froze. There was a man coming out of the house, standing on the porch. To Parker, he looked to be in his mid twenties and well built. He had light brown hair and a nice frame, similar to Eliot's. He locked eyes with the hitter and slowly, his feet heavy in the work boots he wore, he came down the steps and went to stand a little in front of him. Parker shot a glance at Eliot and saw that he had paled, and that his eyes looked red.

"Joseph…" he started but his younger brother cut him off.

"You son of a bitch." His brother's voice was a lot like Eliot's, except a little lighter. There was anger, though, Parker could tell. "You think that you can just come right back down here like nothings changed? Say hello and then disappear again like none of it matters? Like it won't kill us to see you once and then never again, never knowing what happened?" he was shaking, and so was Eliot.

"Jo, I never wanted to hurt you. When I left, it was never meant to be like that. Never coming home." Eliot said. "It's just…"

"Save it, Chris." Joseph shook his head. "I don't want excuses."

"And I'm not going to give you any. " Eliot held up his hands. "I want to tell you the truth, buddy, I do. But I can't. And it's all that I can hope for that you can accept that and forgive me. If not today, then someday. But right now, I'm here. I'm here Joseph, and if you don't like it, then tough because I'm older and I can still kick your ass."

At that, Joseph let out a barking laugh and Eliot smiled, which made Parker smile. The two brothers looked at each other before Joseph reached out and pulled his older brother in for a hug. Eliot may be older, Parker thought, but he definitely was on the shorter scale when compared to his brother.

"I missed you, Chris." Joseph's words were muffled in Eliot's shoulder, but still clear.

"You too, buddy." Eliot grinned as he pulled away and Joseph turned his apprehensive gaze onto the truck, where Parker and the three other thieves were seated. "Joseph, um, these are my friends. Sophie and Nate, " he pointed to them, "Hardison, and then there's Parker."

"Nice to meet you all." Joseph grinned, wide and toothy. "Hey, man, which one's yours? I bet your with the blonde right? She is your type. Kind of lithe and-"

"Shut up. We're friends. End of story." Eliot swung an arm at his brother, but he sidestepped it with ease as he moved back towards the house.

"Whatever you say, Christian. Whatever you say. I got to get back in. Got a line of people in there who want a piece of you, too. Can't say I blame them." Joseph reached the stairs and makes a quick hop back to the door. He turned around once more and simply looked at his brother. Parker knew that look. She and her team were the masters of that look. It was the look you had when you were studying something that you knew you were never going to see again. Then, with a sad smile, he turned around and went back inside.

Eliot sighed and leaned back against the truck. Sophie leaned forward and placed a hand on the hitter's shoulder. Parker wished she could be like that – comforting and kind without saying the wrong thing or accidentally laughing.

It felt like hours were passing as slowly people came out of the house , only one or two people at a time. After Joseph, Eliot's sister Nicki and her husband, Todd, came out. When she saw Eliot, Nicki immediately burst into tears, running the rest of the way out of the house and down to where her brother stood, nearly jumping into his arms. Todd had come down more slowly, but Parker saw that he was restraining himself from doing the same thing. Or quite possibly from punching Eliot in the face.

"I'm okay, Nicki. It's alright." Eliot had held his sister, and then reached out to shake Todd's hand.

"It's been a long time, Christian." The other man had said, but surprisingly, it was amusement and not any trace of anger that had colored his voice. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank them." Eliot had nodded to his team in the truck then, and Parker felt a burst of pride. "They were the ones who got me to reconsider."

"Thank you." Nicki had sobbed, her eyes bleary and red, but they were filled with so much gratitude, Parker had to look away. Even Hardison and Sophie had looked uncomfortable with the level of relief this woman exuded. "Thank you for bringing my brother home. Even if it was for one day."

After Todd and Nicki came another woman, one Eliot called Faith. She was a simple woman, with light brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Parker felt the words "Is she Amish" right on the tip of her tongue (she looked it!) but she also remembered her promise to Eliot, and so she bit the inside of her cheek. She would not mess this up.

Faith didn't say anything, and neither did Eliot. They simply looked at each other, and then Faith hugged Eliot, kissed him on the cheek, and then came to Parker. The thief blinked in surprise, her wide eyes darting back and forth from this strange woman to Eliot, who shrugged. Faith tapped Parker on her knee and Parker leaned down to her from her seat on the side of the bed.

"Take good care of my brother-in-law. " she whispered. "He needs you."

Parker didn't respond, but she nodded that she understood. Maybe Sophie could explain it to her later. She was good at that – explaining things that sometimes went right over the thief's head.

After Faith came two kids. Well, not really kids. Teenagers. Teenage boys. Twin teenage boys. Parker thought back to the names of Eliot's family, and figured that they must be Ashton and Hayden, Nicki and Todd's boys. They were rather cute, if Parker really thought about it. Black hair, green eyes, and they were thin and wiry, but if they were related to Eliot Spencer in any way, then looks were certainly deceiving.

"Hey boys." Eliot's voice caught a little as he looked at his nephews. Ashton and Hayden looked at each other, and then back at Eliot, and their eyes were serious, their faces blank. They stood there, the three of them, just staring at each other, and then there was the four thieves watching from the bed of a truck, not really a part of this, but the reason it was happening in the first place. After a long pause, one of the boys spoke.

"Who's who." It wasn't a question. Parker looked at the others in confusion, and saw that they simply looked surprised.

"What?" Parker chanced a whisper to Hardison, who was sitting on her left.

"Hush." The hacker snapped and nudged her to look back at the others. Parker huffed and stuck her tongue out but did as he said. Eliot was still looking at the two boys, but this time there was a small smirk present on his face. He took a few slow steps to where the twins were waiting until he was within an arms length of both of them.

Suddenly, one of his arms shot out and he hooked it around one of the boy's neck, pulling him into a headlock. The boy let out a startled squeak and beat fruitlessly against Eliot's chest and side, his body twisted into an awkward angle. Almost in the same instant, Eliot reached out and had the other boy flipped over his shoulder. Parker heard Sophie gasp, but she was laughing hysterically. This was the Eliot they knew and loved.

"Stop! Uncle Christian!" one of the boys yelled, but it was ruined by the laughter that was bubbling out of him. It was adorable, even for a sixteen year old.

"Gotcha." Eliot grinned and then he released the boy he had in a headlock. "Hayden," he released the other boy, "and Ashton. Works every time."

"Not fair, Uncle Christian." Ashton huffed, but he and his brother were grinning wildly, and they both reached out to pull Eliot into a tight hug. After a few more minutes, the sixteen year olds were called back inside, leaving Eliot smiling sadly.

Parker really wanted to talk. She wanted to reach out and tell Eliot that they were here for him and that they were his other family no matter what happened. She wished she knew how to do that, but that wasn't what she could do. All she could do was make Eliot smile sometimes. Parker actually liked that. She could make him smile. Hopefully on the ride home, when he would probably be feeling sad as he left his real family behind.

After the twins left, the door opened again and a smaller boy came outside. He had light blonde hair and big box glasses. Caleb. Parker tried to remember what it was that Eliot had said about him….

"How was Croatia?"

The entire Leverage team stared at this seven year old boy in utter shock.

"Did he just-"

"Hardison-"

"I thought he said that they didn't-"

"El-uh, Christian?"

Eliot chuckled, which really threw them for a loop. The hitter walked towards his little nephew, kneeling down to the little boy's level.

"Caleb, we talked about this. You can't track me."

"Why not?" Caleb whined. "You're never here. How am I supposed to know that you're okay? Using remote signals from the satellites to pinpoint your locations across the world is the only way that I can figure out if you're still alive or if you need my help."

"That is quite possibly the sweetest thing I have ever heard." Sophie gushed quietly. Parker wasn't one for emotions, but even she had to agree that the kid was cute.

"Cay," Eliot sighed, but he was still smiling. "I appreciate that. I really do, buddy. But I need you to stop. For me, and for your mom and everybody in there. There are bad people out there, okay, and they really….don't like me all that much. If they find you, and figure out that you can track me…."

"I get it." Caleb sniffed and he dove forward to grab ahold of his uncle. " I just missed you. Please don't stay away forever again. Momma and Daddy and Aunt Tessa and everyone gets really sad and Grandpa drinks and Grandma just cries when we talk about you. It's sad."

"I know, Caleb." Eliot wrapped his arms around his nephew's shoulders. "I know it is. But it's the way it's got to be. I'm so sorry."

When Caleb went back inside, there was longer pause as they waited to see who it was that would come next. If Parker was counting correctly, then there were two people who had yet to make an appearance.

"UNCLE CHRISTIAN!"

A high pitched scream burst the silence like a needle and a balloon and a pink blur rocketed itself off the porch and into Eliot's arms.

"Hey there, pretty girl!" Eliot crooned, and Parker saw that the pink blur had been a little girl in a bright pink princess dress, complete with a silver tiara perched on her braided pigtails. " Happy birthday, Chelsea! You got big!"

"Not as big as you!" the girl giggled ecstatically. "And you've got girl hair now."

"Chelsea, I don't think-"

"Oh no, she's right, Chris. It's longer than mine, now." Another woman's voice came from the porch, and the team looked up to see the last of Eliot's family members standing and watching the exchange with amusement. This could only be Tessa.

"Mommy! It's not that bad." Chelsea squealed.

"Yeah, Tessa. So there." Eliot stuck his tongue out and Parker openly gawked. She had never, in the years that they had worked together, had she seen him so relaxed, and so comfortable. It was different from how he acted with them back home…Parker couldn't help but feel a little hurt at that thought.

Tessa walked down to meet them, her eyes moving from her daughter and her brother to the team in the truck.

"I see you brought your friends. Who are they?"

"Oh," Eliot seemed startled but he picked it up quickly enough. "Um, well this is-"

"Sam Ford." Nate cut Eliot off as he introduced himself, and Parker took note of the slight alias. Eliot, she was sure, caught it too, but he passed it off with a smile at his sister. "I'm Christian's employer."

"And I'm Maggie, Sam's wife." Sophie picked up right as he finished before Tessa could ask what it was that they all did.

"Um, well, my name is, uh, Eliot." Hardison blurted out. "Eliot Spencer." He grinned, and Parker had to hide her own at the look of barely concealed outrage on the real Eliot's face. Hardison was totally getting beat up when they hit the road again. And then it was her turn.

"I'm Alice," Parker tried to smile like she had seen Sophie do, like Sophie had taught her to do. Sophie had taught her a lot about grifting, including on how to sell even the weakest points. "Christian's fiancée."

Tessa's mouth dropped open in surprise, as well as everyone else's, even Chelsea's. Parker felt her face flush. She didn't know why she said that. It just seemed logical in her mind. And it still did….kind of. She didn't hate the idea of being Eliot's fiancée, or the idea of being with Eliot in general.

"Christian?" Tessa looked at her brother in surprise, and with a small amount of happy astonishment. "Is that true?"

"Uncle Chris? Are you getting married? Is she gonna be my new Auntie?" Chelsea said happily. "I like her. She's pretty."

"Aw. Thanks." Parker gave the little girl a shy smile, which she returned.

"Christian, " Tessa stepped forward and placed a hand on her brother's cheek. "I can't say that I'm not angry at you for cutting us away. Or that I don't miss you every second of every day.. But I am so happy that you found someplace that gives you these people…that gave you Alice. You found someone to love, and who loves you, and if that means your happy…" Tessa took a breath, "If your happy away from all of us, I understand. But I'm also happy for you. Because I love you, baby boy."

"Love you, too, Tess." Eliot smirked. "You got soft while I was gone."

"I got smart." She quipped, taking Chelsea out of his arms. "And so did you."

* * *

It wasn't until later on the plane that Eliot approached her. They had driven back to the hangar in silence, and had taken off and were well on their way before Eliot came to sit beside her. Parker tried to avoid looking at him, but Eliot placed two fingers under her chin and made her face him.

"Parker." He said softly, so as not to wake the others. "Thank you."

"For what?" she blinked in surprise.

"If it wasn't for you, I would never have gone to see my family. I wouldn't have gotten so much closure that I didn't know I needed."

"I'm glad you got to be the real you for once." Parker hadn't meant for it to come out that way, and she closed her mouth with a snap. She hoped Eliot wouldn't ask her to explain. She wasn't good with that either.

"Parker, let me explain something to you." Eliot settled back in the seat and gave her a look. "I have been away from home for so long, that the person I used to be, "Christian Kane", is nothing more than an alias for me anymore. Eliot Spencer is the real me. You guys…you've become my real family. I mean, yeah, Tessa and everyone is my real family and they always will be, but you guys are the ones that have really taken me in and shaped me. And I know I ain't one for all this long winded emotional crap, except I've been doing it a lot lately thanks to you. "

"Welcome." Parker smiled a little and they settled into the long flight home.


	19. Sleeping At Last

**A/N: Okay, back to the regular, unrelated oneshots. I hope you guys liked the last couple of chapters, and I really hope you keep reviewing! They really mean a lot to me, and I love reading every single one.**

 **I don't know how great this is, but oh well.**

 **I do not own Leverage.**

* * *

It was something that she had noticed over time. It had taken them a long, long time to really settle into their new place in Boston, which was not too bad, considering. There were plenty of high rafters and roof space, which immediately made it Parker approved. The windows were huge, too, giving her the perfect view of all the eligible building to rappel from. Plus, the kitchen was nice and state of the art, which meant Eliot could cook tons of amazing things, and the cabinets could hold almost thirty boxes of her favorite brands of cookies and cereal. All in all, Parker thought it was a nice place.

But she could tell that the others were a little uncomfortable. Parker always thought that the best way to break in a new place was to sleep in it. That's how she knew she was comfortable where she was. If she could let her guard down long enough to sleep, then she knew she was safe in the place she had found. Although she had her hangar, it really wasn't her most favorite place in the whole world. Parker preferred to be here at the office, or she occasionally bounced around to everyone else's personal pads. Mainly it was Sophie and Eliot she crashed with, seeing as Nate lived at the office and Hardison always acted all weird when she came over.

It had taken a while for Parker to notice, but suddenly, she did.

It had started, really, with Nate. Parker found him sprawled face down on the sofa at seven in the morning, completely unconscious.

"Is he dead?" she asked Sophie, who was walking through to the kitchen where Eliot was setting up a small makeshift omelet bar. Sophie had merely glanced down at the sleeping man.

"Not yet." She quipped. "He's just sleeping, Parker. Let him be. Lord knows he needs his rest."

"I've never seen Nate sleep before. " Parker leaned in close to study the mastermind.

"Parker, let the man have his peace. He's probably just breaking in his new couch. He hasn't really had a chance to settle into his new home since we converted it to office space. " Eliot had reasoned and Parker nodded. That made sense.

Nate was comfortable to sleep on his own couch. Parker counted that as a win in her book.

The next person she noticed was Sophie. It was one night before a really big con, and they had spent hours going over the details of their individual jobs. There were a lot of moving parts to this case, and everything had to run absolutely perfectly. When it came down to the wire, though, it all rested on Sophie to complete the con. Parker was only doing a few small lifts, Nate was setting the bait, and Eliot was going to ghost around the scene as backup in case things went south, while Hardison was in the van doing his geeky thing. Sophie was the grifter, so she would be in the field the whole time. It was a lot of pressure. And Parker told Sophie so.

"Thanks, Parker. I get it." Sophie snapped. "It's all on me. No pressure. No pressure, she says. It's a lot of pressure, she says. Ugh! All of you, just – get away from me and let me work!"

She had sent them all away from her. Parker had slunk off to the kitchens to find something to eat (Eliot had made chocolate cake that morning) while the others actually took the Brit's words to heart and went home for the night. After maybe twenty minutes or so, Parker looked up from her half eaten cake and realized that it was really quiet. Had she missed Sophie leave? Not likely. That woman was loud wherever she went. It only helped her to hide her secrets better. Parker got up from her seat in the kitchen and snuck over to where she could peek into the main area, and she nearly squealed at the sight.

There was Sophie, with a small afgan draped over her shoulders, sound asleep on the couch, a look of utter peace on her face, the papers detailing the plan for tomorrow loose in her hand. Parker grinned. Sophie always liked to be in her own room, with her satin and silk and frills and all the pretty things. She had told Parker that she felt safe when surrounded by the things that made her feel special.

Sophie felt comfortable here because she felt special in the place she had made for herself. Another win for Parker and her sleeping theory.

She caught Hardison next, though it wasn't as much of a surprise. She had decided to rappel to work that morning, and when she dove off the top of the building, she noticed that Hardison's flashy car was parked exactly where it had been the night before. When she reached the landing of Nate's apartment and peered through the window, that's when she saw him: Hardison was fast asleep on the couch, a two liter bottle of orange soda and a big bowl of popcorn in front of him, his headset and controller still in his hands, and the multiple television screens all paused on a display for World of Warcraft.

Hardison was confortable enough to completely geek out and then zonk out. Count that as win number three.

She and Eliot actually did it together. Parker still wasn't sure how it happened. She just couldn't let go of the fact that Eliot only slept ninety minutes a day. Even Parker, who was always wired on pure sugar and ready to go at all times, slept a minimum of three hours. Eliot needed an hour and a half and he was set for who knew how long! Parker didn't buy it. So when she caught him settling down on the couch with a book and a cup of hot tea, she had dove right over beside him and grabbed him round the waist. Her legs and his legs were tangled, both sets out straight lengthwise down the couch. Her arms held him around his middle and her head rested on his chest.

"Parker, what the hell –"

"I want to watch you sleep."

"Watch me – Parker what the fuck are you talking about?"

"You said you only sleep ninety minutes a day. I don't believe you. So I'm going to be here until you sleep, and then I'm going to watch you and count." It sounded like a reasonable enough plan to her, but she was still surprised when Eliot sighed and simply shrugged.

"Whatever, Parker."

So she had watched. And waited. And held him. And she noticed that he was really warm, and he smelled like the woods and like the outdoor city streets. And she noticed that she could feel his muscles from where she lay, and that he was a lot bigger than she had thought before. And she noticed that it was getting harder and harder to stay awake and watch him because she was getting warm and sleepy and comfortable laying next to Eliot like this, especially when his arms came to wrap around her waist.

When she woke up a few hours later, she was still there on the couch, and she was shocked to see that Eliot was still laying with her, his arms tight against her hips as he held her to him.

Eliot only slept longer than ninety minutes when he felt like he didn't need to run. Parker slept when she felt like she was safe. He didn't need to run when he was with her. She felt safe when she was in her hitter's arms.

This was a magical couch. And it was really comfortable.


	20. Cherries

**A/N: I'd like to remind everyone that some of these one shot drabbles are inspired by Anime Girl23 and her story "50 Sentences" which are 50 prompts for Leverage stories. She has given me permission to use them as my one shots. Not all of them are from her, but some are, like the one you're about to read.**

 **This contains spoilers for The Second David Job in Season 1, as well as 12 Step Job and The Wedding Job."**

 **Please review and tell me what you thought!**

* * *

Eliot was fuming, and he didn't know why. Well, he knew why. Kind of. Okay, so he knew exactly why he was so angry, but what he didn't get was why he was _still_ angry. No, wait, he knew that, too. It was because Hardison wouldn't shut the fuck up.

"I'm telling you, man, that girl….whoa. I mean, I know we're in the middle of a con and all, but you know, this isn't the first time she's come on to me. Granted, we were in the middle of a con the last time, and it was part of her cover, but she lied to the mark and said she was waiting to have sex with me! The DJ of a mob wedding." He laughed a little to himself, and Eliot felt his irrational anger skyrocket.

"Hardison, would you please be quiet." Eliot snarled, biting back the nastier responses he was just aching to spit out at the tech genius. Hardison looked at him in clear distaste.

"Hey, man, would you relax? We've got hours before Sterling shows up again to run through the security for Blackpool. And here I am, trying to bond with your grumpy ass over something incredible."

"She was doing her job, Hardison. She was completing the con." At least, he hoped she was. Dear God, he hoped she was just grifting like Sophie.

"Nah, man. No way. Uh-uh. There is no way she planned that far ahead. Parker ain't the type of girl to primp and preen, you know? Like Sophie is always prepared to flirt and finesse and use her feminine wiles, but Parker is the more "air ducts are my friend" and "kick them and run" type of girl. She doesn't get pretty just in case, or just because."

"Hardison, you've known her for less than six months. For that matter, you've known _me_ for less than six months. You want guy talk? I ain't your guy. Go….plug in to your outlet cord or whatever it is you do and yap about it to your orc friends."

"Well." Hardison gasped, slightly offended, although Eliot knew he would get over it in a couple of hours. "First off, they are not orcs. They are Elven Warriors. There is a major difference. If they were orcs, we would not be friends. We'd be enemies."

"We're about to be enemies if you don't get out of my office in the next three seconds."

"Fine, fine. I hear you. Stop snarling, you animal." Hardison got up from where he had been lounging against Eliot's polished oak desk and made his way to the door, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Eliot almost felt bad, but he couldn't take it much longer. He was this close to either confessing every raging emotion that was warring inside his head or beating Hardison to a pulp. It didn't really take a mind reader to figure out which side had been winning. _Insert his rare ability to self-control his anger issues. Mostly._

"Hardison…" Eliot sighed, causing the man to turn around. Eliot was almost sure that he should apologize or something, say anything that wouldn't continue to alienate himself from the rest of the team. But before he could, the hacker got this goofy little smile on his face.

"You know," he said softly, looking all like the fool in love, "she tastes like cherries."

And then he left, leaving Eliot absolutely dumbstruck in his chair. He leaned forward, trying to repress all the things his instincts were telling him to do, things his head was lecturing him to do, what his heart was begging him to do.

 _Go get him. Tell him in no uncertain terms that already had claim!_

 _She's not the last donut in the box! You don't own her. She had every right to kiss him._

 _Not when she knew how you felt! She knew – she had to know –_

 _Grab Hardison and tell him that he can't have her._

 _She doesn't know. She wouldn't have. She would have talked to you._

 _She's too scared of you to talk to you. Like everyone else._

 _She's not that dense not to know._

 _This is the girl who thought a horse killed a clown at a birthday party._

 _Fair point._

 _Hardison can't have her._

 _She's not yours. She can make up her own mind. Just because your jealous –_

 _I'm not jealous._

 _Then why are you so angry._

 _I'm not jealous that Parker might like Hardison or that Hardison does like Parker_

 _You're still angry_

 _I'm not angry_

"Alright enough of this!" Eliot snarled at himself, banging a fist down on his desk. He was giving himself a headache, and that was not a good thing to do. Not for him. He needed to be able to function for the next few hours, and he couldn't do that if he was driving himself crazy. He had to resolve whatever issues he had with…. with what happened. "I'm not angry with Hardison. Okay, that's a lie. I'm always angry with Hardison, but not with this. This wasn't his fault."

Eliot knew that talking to himself was going to sound completely crazy if any of his teammates happened to walk by his office, but he doubted that they'd be heading to his little corner anytime soon. They all knew that he valued his privacy, and Hardison no doubt told them that he was in one of his "moods" so they would give him space until Nate called and said they were ready to roll.

"I'm not angry at Parker, either. She is a little…. odd, so maybe she hasn't noticed like other women might have." Eliot told himself. "Plus, they were about to be caught. It was a necessary move for the con. Can't well enough steal a priceless artifact from a top security art vault if both the hacker and the thief are in custody. So what's my problem?"

Eliot knew what his problem was. His whole inner dialogue had pointed out his problem. He just hated admitting that he might have gotten irrevocably attached to this kooky aerobatic girl. Yet here he was, pacing in his office, obsessing over one little moment in time, driving himself over the edge to heartbreak…all because he was jealous.

Jealous of a single kiss.

Eliot winced. God, he hated that word. Jealousy was an ugly thing. It made people do crazy things, and it turned even the nicest of people into absolute wackos. Imagine what it could do to a volatile menace like himself. He sighed and sat back on the edge of his desk. He ran his hands over his face tiredly.

He couldn't help it, though. He, Eliot Spencer, was jealous of Alec Hardison because he had gotten to kiss Parker, the girl he had fallen for. He didn't even realize it had happened. It was so fast, and that, to Eliot, was dangerous. It had been early on, right after they finished the 12 Step Job at the rehab clinic. Parker was still hopping high on those pills, and when she had leapt to hug him, Eliot had had the fleeting thought that her hips fit snugly around his, and that she smelled like vanilla and metal, and that her body oddly fit right into his. When she let go, he found himself wishing that she was still holding on. From then on, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. He was positive that she hadn't caught on. In his line of work, a poker face was a necessity of the job. Instead, he watched her with blank eyes, taking note of her every quirk, the differences in her smiles, her laughs. Everything he noticed filled him up inside with a feeling that he hadn't felt in so, so long that he had nearly forgotten it.

Eliot had fallen for Parker. He was sure about it. And now Hardison had, too, and what's more, he had actually kissed her.

"Ah, geez, I'm fucked." He muttered.

"Got a hot date tonight?"

Eliot jumped and nearly fell in surprise at the sound of Parker's voice right next to his ear. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard her come in, and he had been ever more distracted not to notice her get within arms length of him. That was not good at all.

"Jesus, Parker! What have I told you about sneaking up on me?" Eliot yelled, backing away from the thief. She was perched in a crouch on top of his desk, a few of his things scattered around out of place to make room for her feet. A slight creak from above made Eliot look up to see the open air vent on the ceiling of his office. Okay, it made him feel a little better that she hadn't used the door. But still.

"Not to do it because you might accidentally maim me or something like that." Parker repeated in a dull tone. She was looking at him with interest; her bright eyes unblinking like some sort of blonde owl. It was a little unsettling, but Eliot was far from nervous in her presence.

"Exactly. Dammit Parker, I could have hurt you."

"But you didn't. You were thinking. You didn't even hear the air vent open, or stop me when I jumped down." Parker tilted her head at him.

"Yeah, well…" Eliot cursed inwardly at himself. What was he supposed to say? As a country boy, he had grown up with no small amount of charm, and he used it quite often to get his way with the ladies. But with Parker….he already knew that any charm he laid down was going to be completely lost on this broken girl. The same went for any threat he could make, or any illusion to who he really was. She would not get it. Eliot just didn't know how to talk to this woman.

"Do you have a date tonight?" Parker asked, and there was something in her voice that gave Eliot pause.

"No." Eliot said softly. "No, I don't."

Parker's face drooped in sadness and confusion, and she got this look on her face – like she was trying really hard not to cry mixed with the look of someone who was trying to solve an extremely difficult math problem in their head.

"Oh." She said, and when Eliot looked at her in confusion, she sighed and made to sit down cross-legged on the desk, picking up one of his loose throwing knives he had been polishing earlier and fiddling with it. "I mean, I just heard you say that you were fucked, and I've heard people describe dates sort of like that, so I figured that I finally got it right and that you had a hot date later or maybe you already did and you and the girl –"

"I get it, Parker!" Eliot cut her off, trying to maintain a look of annoyance, but he was losing that battle quickly. A sly grin was working its way onto his face, and before he knew it, a chuckle had rumbled out, too. Parker glared at him, but he could see the small smile of embarrassment peeking at the corner of her lips. Her lips…soft and shell pink with a glossy sheen to them that caught the light almost perfectly. Parker bit at her bottom lip slightly, almost seductively, and Eliot wondered for a second if she really did taste like cherries.

"So….if you don't have a date tonight…?" Parker asked.

"I was mad at myself, Parker." Eliot said slowly. They were treading towards where his earlier, and in fact, his current thoughts were focused, and whatever he might say to the contrary, Eliot would never want to hurt Parker or Hardison by actions he could have prevented.

"Why?" It was a simple question that didn't really have a simple answer. Eliot shrugged and leaned back against the wall, keeping his eyes wary, but in reality, he was hyper focused on every movement the girl in front of him made.

"I'm allowed to be mad, Parker. Seems to be part of my job description." He regretted his snappy response when he saw the flash of hurt across Parker's face and he quickly fumbled for something gentler to say. "I've made mistakes, Parker. Sometimes they make me angry. Sometimes I let my emotions get the better of me, and I can't help feeling angry or sad or jealous – "

Dammit. There was that word again. He had gotten way too close to what he was actually feeling and that was dangerous. He was dangerous. This had to end, now. Part of Eliot hoped that Parker had gotten the answer she was looking for and would simply hop right up and shimmy back the way she had come – through that tiny little vent in the ceiling. But another part of him hoped that she would stay and push him for more answers, and that part scared him more than anything else. Because he realized that if she did just that – if Parker stayed and kept asking why – then he would tell her. He would tell her everything.

"I didn't think you got jealous."

There was another note of something in Parker's voice, and Eliot looked at her critically. It was strange. It had sounded almost as if she was…pleased? But that didn't make sense. To be fair, though, Parker didn't even make sense. Eliot was uncertain, though, and he spoke slowly.

"Everyone gets jealous, Parker. Not everyone knows what will make them feel that way, but the feelings are there. Sometimes buried deep, but they are there."

"Were you jealous of Hardison?"

Eliot physically started forward and stared in shock at the thief on his desk. What had she just said? No, he heard her correctly. There was no way he had misinterpreted that. But had she really….?

"What?" Eliot didn't have time to curse himself for the less than eloquent response. He was that taken aback. He watched as Parker clambered off his desk and slowly and silently came to where he was standing, stopping only a few feet short of him. Just out of arms reach. Good. She was learning.

"I said, are you jealous of Hardison." Parker whispered.

"Why…." Eliot tried to swallow, but he found that his throat was suddenly very dry.

"Because I kissed him instead of you." She had spoken so quietly Eliot had almost missed it. But he didn't, and his eyes widened with surprise. They both stood there, silently, looking at each other, each waiting for someone to speak and break the pause that seemed to be holding on to them.

"Parker, I…."

"Eliot, I…."

They stopped again, smiling awkwardly. When had things become awkward? Eliot motioned that Parker could speak first, and he held his breath, wondering if she would continue to read his mind.

"Eliot," she started, "can I try something?"

That was not what he was expecting, but he nodded anyway. He could feel his guard going up in defense as she reached forward to brush her hand across his cheek. Her fingers were rough and callused, the product of years of working with ropes and harnesses and climbing the cities of the world. Slowly, very slowly with almost painstaking precision, as if he were one of those priceless artifacts she was trying to steal, she leaned in closer and closer, until their noses were touching and he could feel her breath on his lips.

For a moment he thought of Hardison, and how the man had considered him a friend after such a short time. How he knew that he hacker was head over heels for the girl in front of him, and how he knew that he was too. Eliot knew that this was a problem, and that he should pull away and apologize. But he couldn't. He would have to deal with Hardison later. Right now, it was just him and Parker.

He leaned in and closed the distance between their lips, brushing over them gently at first and then with more force. She responded with fervor and quickly linked her arms around his neck, bringing their heads closer together, trying to taste everything at once. After a few minutes, Eliot pulled away, panting, and rested his forehead on hers, his blue eyes peering into her dazed glassy green ones.

"What?" she asked, reading the laughter and the awe he knew was visible in his expression. He leaned forward again to brush his lips across hers.

"You taste like cherries."


	21. Poisoned

**A/N: Here is a change of point of view for you guys. Even though these one shots are mainly about Eliot and Parker, I felt like it would be nice to add a different character's point of view. I haven't changed it in a while so here you go!**

 **This is kind of long, and I'm not sure how well it really came about, but here goes nothing! Sorry for the slow start to this.**

 **Also: it's my birthday!**

 **All reviews are appreciated!**

* * *

It wasn't often that the Leverage team got a day off, but when they did, you better believe that they made the most of it. To be fair, they had been working nonstop for the last three and a half weeks, one con blending into the other as they tried to balance four different sets of clients that had asked for their help, all of which resided in one single town – which had led to sifting through dozens of corrupt politicians and officers and even a school principal who was taking payoffs from students to alter GPA's. All in all, it had been an exhausting month.

But now…there were no more clients. Sterling wasn't on their ass, there were no red flags or alarms ringing in their ears, no emergencies to supervise. It was all quiet. And that meant they could let down their guard for just a few moments and actually relax in their home away from home without worrying.

When they had first started working together, they all took their free time separately. Nate would head out on a weekend bar crawl, and Sophie would plan her shopping schedule (how to hit the hottest stores in the least amount of time), and Hardison would get his gamer friends online to play WoW, while Parker went on a city-wide rappelling course that she designed herself (illegally, of course). No one knew what Eliot did, but he always came back smiling and considerably more bruised than when he had left.

But that was then. Now, it seemed that they all enjoyed it immensely when they spent some of the free time doing things together. Things that didn't consist of running for their lives or scamming scum bags or doing things that could get them killed. Today, they were together just as friends, a sort of honky-dory team, and they were going out to eat.

Nate found it odd that they'd rather go out to a restaurant, in public, when they could just as well relax in the comfort of his loft (and their subsequent work space) and have Eliot cook an even better meal for them all, but Sophie had vetoed that idea before it had even left his mouth.

"Eliot deserves to relax as well as the rest of us, if not more. We're going out to real restaurant like normal people and we are going to have a good time." Sophie had said, and despite her breezing British tonality, she had left no room for argument on any of their parts.

So here they were, out in the open, all together, with nothing more on their minds than lunch. It was a weird feeling – a group of thieves (Nate had to admit to himself by now that he was, in all accounts, a thief) just planning on a relaxing day. Like normal people. Except normal people didn't usually have more than a million secrets split between them, and half of them belonging to Eliot alone.

"Uh, Sophie?" Nate said after they had been walking for a while. Sophie had insisted that they walk to the restaurant she had picked out for them. No subways or taxis or confined spaces where some sort of trouble was bound to crop up and tangle them all into the avoidable mess. Also, since the whole "going out to eat" idea was hers, she had also claimed the spot where they would be eating, and she was keeping it a surprise.

Nate revised his earlier thought. The only person who could match Eliot for number of secrets would have to be Sophie. Perhaps the two of them together made up half a million secrets. Nate thought about it for a second more and shook his head. Who was he kidding? Those two probably had about three to four million….each.

"No, Nate, I am not telling you where we are going!" Sophie trilled from ahead of him. "Come on, where is your sense of adventure? Don't you trust me?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" Nate muttered, earning himself a glare from the gorgeous grifter.

"Ha ha. Very funny, Nate. Now move! Or we're going to miss our reservations."

"Reservations?" Eliot said in a low voice to him and Hardison. Parker was up walking with Sophie, bounding circles around her like an overeager puppy, asking inane questions that Sophie answered with no small amount of patience. "I thought we were just going to lunch? What kind of lunch place takes reservations?"

"The kind of place Sophie eats at." Hardison rolled his eyes.

"And now she's dragging us there." Nate sighed. He glanced at the other two men, who wore identical grimaces to his. "Classic Sophie Deveraux."

To her credit, the place was nice, and it wasn't completely upscale. It was a decent sized place, typical for a New York outdoor restaurant, especially set this close to Central Park. It wasn't a dine –and –dash kind of deal, like Nate and Eliot were certainly more attune to, and it wasn't Hardison's regular hotdog cart drive by beat. Parker was always open to trying new things – but that mainly stemmed from her classic diet of cereal and Confetti cake batter. The restaurant was wholly Sophie in that respect. Except….

Nate noticed the long, long list of drinks at the bar (not all of them alcoholic, but all certainly intriguing to a man like him) and Sophie's careful redirect to a table that wasn't too close, but not too far either from the bar. He gave an appreciative and understanding nod to the woman he found himself entangled with, and looked at the other qualities of the place that seemed to have endeared the rest of his team. Hardison had quickly established that the restaurant's line of sodas were well equipped to his tastes, as well as whatever he was drooling over on the menu. Parker was already yapping about the dessert menu, which apparently included deep fried Oreos. Sophie had really picked the place that best suited all of their tastes. Except…

"Eliot?" Sophie brought the hitter's attention to her as they settled down into their seats. "What do you think? Huh? Not bad, right?"

Nate looked at Eliot, who hadn't said a word since they had walked in the front door of _Catalina's._ The man had lost most of the relaxed feeling he had only minutes before and there was an edge of tension back in Eliot's body, his shoulders, which he usually carried around with him every day of the job. Today, Nate had seen him shed it gratefully, as if it was an extremely heavy weight. Out of all of them, it was the hardest for Eliot to let down the walls he kept up day after day. Now every once in a while it was possible for him to really be himself – even though Nate had the feeling that Eliot hardly knew who that was anymore. That was supposed to be today.

"Eliot?" Nate said, noting that the hitter hadn't responded to Sophie yet. The hitter's eyes were dark and narrowed. Clearly something was the matter, but in an instant, his troubled look was wiped clear and a careful mask was set in place.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. This is great, Sophie." Eliot murmured. Perhaps Nate was only overanalyzing things. It had been a really nice day so far. Maybe he was jittery at the lack of trouble that always seemed to plague them everywhere they went. Yeah, that was it. He was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 _Eliot's always a little off kilter._ He thought to himself. _Not like Parker, but still. He's always tense. It's who he is. Nothing to be worried about, I'm sure. I mean, if it were something, surely he would tell me – he would tell us, right? Yeah._

They had a nice time of it. What had started off as a strange occurrence now turned into a pleasant afternoon. Over the next few hours, they ordered a few rounds, talked and laughed about things that had nothing to do with work and everything to do with them, and they ate good food, though they agreed unanimously that Eliot's cooking topped it by far. So this was what it was like to simply be out with friends. Nate hadn't experienced anything like this since he was together with Maggie, and it was usually museum functions they would attend, chatting with high society folk and sipping those classy overpriced drinks. Oh, how times have changed.

As they ate, Nate kept a watchful eye on Eliot, waiting to see if the tension ever left the man's shoulders. It didn't. Instead, Eliot seemed to be getting even tenser as time went on, the rest of the team oblivious to the detachment of their hitter. Eliot's eyes kept flashing to somewhere further back in the restaurant, but when Nate subtly glanced the same way, all he saw were patrons just enjoying their day. Nothing out of the ordinary. But apparently, there was. Eliot slowly shifted his seat until Nate blocked him from whoever it was behind him, and the hitter carefully arranged his hair until it hung, artfully styled, in his face. Despite what Nate had told himself earlier, he was starting to feel that there was definitely something that Eliot was not telling them, and it certainly seemed like trouble.

But nothing happened. Soon enough, dessert came for all of them and Eliot relaxed, if only slightly. Whatever he had been afraid of, or expecting, apparently hadn't come to pass. Now, at the end of the meal, Eliot was smiling, laughing along with Sophie and Hardison about something or other, smearing whipped cream on Parker's cheek just to make her giggle. Nate smiled slightly. Everything seemed quite all right.

It happened when they were leaving. Nate had paid the bill (he was going to KILL Sophie for that little stunt) and they were all taking their sweet time heading out the door. Just as they reached it, a man came charging past them, running straight on into Eliot. Both the hitter and the stranger were knocked to the ground, but before anyone could so much as say a word, the stranger was on his feet again and bolted out the door without looking back.

"Well!" Sophie exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. "I have never seen anything quite as rude. Awful, just awful. Eliot, are you alright?"

"Sophie, I've had worse than this before. I'm fine." Eliot groused, but he was looking after the man with narrowed eyes, and Nate could tell that he wasn't as nonchalant as he played it. There was something underneath….was it worry? Nate couldn't tell. But he kept an eye on Eliot as they walked back to the office, despite the man's claims that he didn't need watching.

"Really. Just kind of surprised me there. Nearly bowled Sophie over, too. Must have been in quite the hurry." Eliot said, and Nate's suspicions grew. No one "just surprised" Eliot. They learned that the hard way last year when Parker had insisted on throwing the hitter a surprise birthday party. They had been patching up holes in the walls for two weeks…who knew that knives could actually knock a support beam out of place?

They walked back to their HQ with no further problems. Now and then, Eliot would glance around, even behind them, as if he were trying to figure out his surroundings, and Nate now saw that the others were starting to notice his slightly paranoid behavior as well. Or maybe they were only starting to show that they noticed now. Working with professional thieves got tricky sometimes.

As per usual on days when they were all able to basically do their own thing, the team of five spread out around the loft and continued to absorb their free time. Hardison logged onto his laptop and began typing as fast as he possible could, Sophie began flipping magazines, her phone and her credit card at the ready, Parker opened a new box of Cookie Crunch, and Nate settled down with a nice Vermouth. Eliot picked up a heavy book from the side table and sat down to read it on the couch.

It was silent, for the most part. After a couple of minutes, Eliot gave a light cough as he turned the page in his book. Nate leaned his head back in his chair and sighed with contentment. Maybe they should try and have a day or two off every couple of weeks or so. It was nice, not being worried or on edge for once.

Eliot coughed again. And then again. And then a fourth time, and now it was rougher and throated, and they were all glancing over at him. Eliot had put his book down and he was coughing full-bodied into the crook of his left arm. His left hand was gripping his upper right shoulder.

"Eliot?" Sophie said cautiously, rising halfway from her seat.

Eliot coughed again, hard, and he raised a hand to stop her. He paused for a breath, and they all waited, watching him assess himself to see if the coughing had stopped. There was nothing for a breathe, and Nate could feel them all relax slightly, as if this had just been a freakish moment.

But then he coughed again, and this time, he fell forward off the couch and landed on all fours on the floor.

"Eliot!" Sophie yelled, and then they were all running forward to their hitter, too afraid to touch him, but too afraid to let him be. Eliot was coughing harder now, hardly able to draw any breath. His lungs were audibly wheezing, and his face was turning red with the effort to inhale.

"Eliot, calm down. You need to try and calm –" Nate was trying to reach the man before him, while simultaneously trying to pass the message along to the rest of his team. But it all went out the window.

Eliot coughed again, and this time, a spatter of blood left his lips and coated the floor in front of him. It dribbled down his lips and chin, and he started to shake.

"He's having a seizure!" Nate yelled and he dove forward, regardless of any potential danger to himself, and went to hold Eliot down. "Parker, come help me. Sophie, get 9-1-1 on the phone, and tell them it's an emergency. Hardison, figure out why this is happening."

"What?" Hardison was staring, gaping at the sight of Eliot's convulsing body. "How – how?"

"ALEC!" Nate was struggling to hold Eliot down. "Eliot was acting strange at the restaurant this afternoon. Start there, and see what you can find. Search the medical records you can find on him, see if he has any history of violent seizures. GO!"

The three thieves ran off to do their jobs. Parker placed herself near Eliot's head and gingerly lifted it off the floor to prevent him biting through his tongue. His eyes were closed and flickering, and more blood spewed from his lips. The edges of his mouth began to froth and foam. Nate pressed a hand to the hitter's chest.

"Hold on, Eliot. Hold on."

* * *

Eliot felt like he had simultaneously been hit by a semi and buried six feet under in concrete (both of which he had the unpleasant misfortune of experiencing, though they were unrelated incidents in his past). The darkness hat surrounded him kept him warm, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he wasn't awake. He was separate, and he was calm.

That was new.

Eliot could only remember maybe a handful of times in his whole life when he had allowed himself to be totally calm and at peace, his guard completely down and his whole self, exposed. Most of those moments, of course, occurred after he had left home, and there were even a few that he had discovered with this group he had joined – a memory hit Eliot suddenly and out of the blue like that semi truck he had thought of before, only this one was revved in reverse. He had been with them – his team – and they had been relaxing after – after something… he had seen… something…

Eliot knew that there was a serious gap in his memory and it bothered him. He could feel himself start to panic, and he felt his chest tighten and his breathing become erratic. The darkness pressed in on all sides, and he felt as if he was tied down, unable to move.

"Eliot! Eliot, relax! It's okay, you're safe!"

He knew that voice – Nate. That was Nate. Hwy was Nate here? Why was he here in the darkness? Eliot began to fight harder against this mounting pressure in his chest.

"Eliot! Please listen. Stop panicking. You're going to hurt yourself."

Sophie. That was Sophie. The darkness had her, too. Eliot choked and he felt himself thrash, his survival instincts kicking slowly into gear as his mind registered the danger.

"Hey, Eliot, man! Calm, Eliot. Think of peaceful things, okay? Uh, like big knives and trucks and cooking and beating up the dude who did this to you. Hmm? That sound nice?"

Eliot was suffocating by the time Hardison finished. Distantly, Eliot heard himself whimper, and there was an alarm of some kind, but the pain was too great for him to try and focus long enough to hold everything in. Why was this happening? Who did this?

What was he forgetting?

"Eliot. Please. You're scaring me."

Parker.

Eliot felt his body still.

Parker.

He was scaring Parker.

The words seemed to register with him in a way the others hadn't been able to. The darkness, too, seemed to lessen and, bit by bit, Eliot came back into himself. He could hear now – beeping of machines, the whirr of the A/C machine, murmured whispers of people around him, and the sound of his own raspy breathing.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Eliot peeled his eyes open, the darkness breaking apart to the yellow fluorescent lighting of his hospital room. His whole body felt numb and detached, as if he were made of cotton, and he found that his throat was closed up and dry. Eliot had never felt this weighted down – well, not since that time in Montreal.

"Mmm?" Eliot moaned, and he heard the other voices in his room gasp, and suddenly, Parker's face was above him. "P-Parker?"

"Hey, look who's alive!" Parker said, but her voice was soft. "Guys, he's awake."

Then Parker's face was gone, replaced by Sophie and Hardison.

"Eliot! Oh good, you're okay."

"Hey man. Never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you glaring at me again. Are you glaring at me? Or is that a squint?"

"H-Hardison." Eliot wheezed. "Shut up."

"Aw." Hardison pouted. "Now see, that's just rude."

"What happened?" Eliot coughed.

There was a pause, and for a minute, all Eliot saw was the cracked tiles above his bed. Parker appeared then, with a small almost normal smile as she raised the head of his hospital bed up s he could face his team, who were now scattered in a familiar fashion around the room. It wasn't the first time one of their own had been in here, and it certainly wasn't the last.

"Eliot," Nate spoke from where he was lounging on the wall across the room. The older man's face was stoic, but even through his morphine induced haze, Eliot could see the worry lines etched in his face, making him seem older and more worn down then they knew he really was.

"Nate." Eliot tried to smirk, but even that small gesture sent a lance of pain through him, causing him to wince. "What happened to me? The last thing I remember is…" a flash of a memory came to him, "I remember coming back to the office. We were relaxing….and then…."

"You were poisoned." Nate said bluntly.

Eliot blinked. What had he just said? He looked to the others faces – Sophie's eyes were red, Hardison was for once very quiet, and Parker had resorted to her blank robotic shell.

"What?"

"Poisoned." Nate said, a little louder. "A nearly lethal dose of phosphorus. I won't go into all the gritty details, but you basically suffocated from the inside and it resulted in a terrific seizure."

"B-But," Eliot struggled to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. "how -?"

"Remember at the restaurant, Eliot?" Nate spoke, and now there was an accusing note in his voice as he took a step towards the man in the bed. "You saw something, something that made you very tense and very alert, and something you chose not to share with the rest of us."

Eliot blanched. He remembered. He had been knocked over in the doorway of the restaurant they had eaten at. Knocked to the floor….his shoulder –

"Want to tell us now?" Nate said.

"I got his picture from the security feed from the store across the street from _Catalina's."_ Hardison said, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket. "Got no ID, though. Guy is completely off the grid, but I'm betting you can help us put a name to the face."

Hardison came forward and held he picture out gingerly. Eliot barely glanced at it. He knew what he would see. The dark hair, the thin eyes set in the gaunt face, the scar reaching from his left eyebrow to the bottom right corner of his lip.

"His name," Eliot said softly. "is Travis Lockwood."

"Okay. And who is Travis Lockwood?" Nate demanded, and Eliot forced himself to look at his boss – his friend – straight in the eyes.

"The man who is going to kill me."


	22. A Monster in Paris

**A/N: I am so sorry I haven't posted in a while. I graduated, I was working, I was performing and I was trying to finish my other story, Durin's Daughter, which is my Hobbit story. Check it out. It's nearly done!**

 **But now I'm back with my Leverage babies, and the next one shot can commence. This will have to do with the last chapter, where I kind of ended on a shocker, I know.**

 **I do not own Leverage, and some of the prompts are courtesy of AnimeGirl23 and her story 50 Sentences.**

 **Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

A few days later, Eliot was discharged from the hospital, the aching stiffness in his joints the only sign that he had been poisoned at all. Well, the only physical sign. Emotionally, and mentally, he wasn't in the best place, and neither was his team. This attack had come out of nowhere, with a man that the others had had the pleasure of never meeting. Eliot wasn't so lucky.

Ever since the first day he had woken up, though, his team had given him space. After Eliot had identified Travis Lockwood, and confirmed, in his own macabre way that Travis was the man out to get him, they had backed off the topic. For the moment, at least. But it had been three days, and Eliot could tell that Nate was close to the breaking point, and the others weren't far behind him. Secrets bred mistrust, and this was one hell of a secret. Though it technically wasn't his fault - Eliot shook his head. That was a lame ass excuse and he knew it. Eliot knew he was in for one hell of a tongue lashing from his team, though even after three days of bed rest and the good drugs the hospital saved for "extreme cases", it still felt as if he had been dropped onto the hood of a moving car. Not for the first time.

Eliot Spencer knew he had been through the mill a few times. Being poisoned wasn't even in his top ten. But the fact that it had involved Travis Lockwood….that he had seen Travis, known he was close to something that he shouldn't touch - that his team was close to something that they shouldn't touch…it made this experience jump the list.

"Eliot?"

Nate's voice drew the hitter's attention from the car window to the mastermind in the front seat looking back at him. Nate had picked him up from the hospital, alone, and they had spent the twenty minute drive back to the apartment. Eliot kept his eyes out the window, trying to avoid Nate's calculating glances. He knew he would be accused of brooding, but surely Nate would understand. That man had his own vendettas, his own demons and villains. None were worse than Eliot's of course. Parker and,kip[ Hardison, and even Sophie….none of their secrets could be worse than Eliot's.

"Eliot?"

"Yeah?" Eliot cleared his throat, his voice hoarse and low, even by his usual standards.

"We're here."

So they were. Back to working jobs, back to being the best damn team of thieves that ever terrorized the hidden world of corruption and crime and came to the rescue of those that needed them most. Back to Leverage Inc. And though even just the thought of returning to the safety and security of those walls, instead of a moderately equipped hospital with overworked and underpaid staff, Eliot couldn't relax. Not now…and maybe not ever again.

It took the two of them almost twice as long to get back to the door of Nate's apartment, where, undoubtably, the three other members of Leverage were waiting. Eliot paused as Nate fumbled with his keys. Was he ready to tell them this? Sophie, he knew, would be horrified. She didn't have the stomach for things like this….things like Travis and what he had done….for things like what Eliot did….or used to do, anyway. Hardison would vent and try not to throw up out of fear….there was fifty-fifty chance he would succeed. Parker….Eliot couldn't even bare to cause Parker pain. Her life was a tally of inconsistencies and cheap thrills and most likely some kind of brain damage or personality defect…..Eliot only wanted to protect her and make her feel loved and secure. If he told her, them, about Travis…none of them would be safe anymore.

Sure enough, as soon as Nate opened the door, Sophie, Parker, and Hardison were standing in a solemn line. Eliot chanced a glance at Nate, but the man seemed just as lost as he did, so Eliot figured that whatever the other three had planned hadn't been run by the bossman.

They stood staring at each other for a while. Or so it seemed to Eliot, at least. Hardison's face was blank, resting in "bitch mode" as Eliot privately called it. Though he and Sophie had been working with the hacker on the art of a poker face, and by the looks of the one Alec Hardison was shooting him now, not even Gorbachev could knock down that wall. Sophie, too, was rather stoic, but Eliot could see the hint of worry in the grifter's dark eyes. Sophie could always put a mask on when it came to a mark, but she had learned the hard way that she couldn't pull one over on her own team….her own family.

Dammit. Eliot cursed inwardly at himself. He knew these people too well. He was getting too attached. Had been for a while now, which wasn't entirely a bad thing, personally. But professionally? It could be lethal.

And then there was Parker. She was always the trickiest one to read. No one knew exactly what was going on in that slightly abnormal mind of hers, and while that made her very, very good at her job, being unpredictable meant that no one knew what it was that was going to set her off. One time it had been a gunshot, and then another, it had been a car alarm in the parking lot. And then thee had been the time when Hardison had popped the lid off a soda can and she went completely batshit crazy and jumped out the window. That was just Parker.

Looking at her thin face, her blonde hair curled hastily on her shoulders, Eliot remembered his earlier thoughts of how all he wanted now was to keep her safe. How could he do that anymore?

Parker usually kept her feelings to herself, locked deep inside her, something Eliot could relate to. Lately, though, Eliot thought she was changing. Being more social, verbal, more…human, and less psychotic robot. She was like that now - dead eyes and no emotion to show. Eliot had done that to her. Eliot had made her hide away back inside herself. If she still was willing to talk to him later, if she could forgive him for hiding this secret, Eliot knew it wouldn't matter because he couldn't ever forgive himself. He was lucky that he was the one Travis was targeting. If anyone else had gotten sick because of his stupid vendetta, of that mistake of a partnership -

"Hey."

Hardison. He was the first to speak. The young idiot who had once questioned what Eliot even did, who showed him respect in the form of taunts and brotherly banter and willing trust to have his back when things went south.

"Hey." Eliot nodded to the younger man.

"You, uh, feeling better, man?" Hardison asked awkwardly. They weren't all that used to sincere gestures of concern. "Cause I, uh, got the couch all set up, you know. Pillows, blankets. A couple of old Kung-fu movies dated way back in the day, some aspirin and a couple of waters. And there's a case of beer, too, but I wouldn't, um, recommend drinking that right now since I bet you're still hopped up on plenty of painkillers. And, um, look man, don't get mad, but I went into your office and I got your laptop and some freaky looking books off your desk and -"

"Hardison." Eliot closed his eyes and breathed. He had only been out of the hospital an hour, and he was still sporting a massive headache. He sighed again and opened his eyes to see Hardison's semi embarrassed face watching him and waiting for the inevitable curse. "Thanks."

"Um…" Sometimes it was really fun throwing the hacker for a loop, especially since it meant watching him louder in confusion and pride. "Sure. Yeah."

"Eliot." This time it was Sophie's soft British lilt that caught his attention. She hadn't moved either, and the look of concern hadn't left her eyes. "How are you feeling?" Ah yes, she was always the mother hen just as much as Hardison played the brother and Nate played the father figure.

"About as well as I should be, all things considering." Eliot quipped, but at the hurt look in her eyes at his remark, he softened his tone and elaborated. "Everything is sore and my head is killing me. I'll be fine by morning. I think."

"Good." Sophie said softly. "That's….good."

And then Eliot looked at Parker, waiting for her to make the first move. That was the thing when it came to Parker - you had to let her go at her own pace. If you pushed her, or went too fast, you could end up losing her to the wind. But Parker wasn't moving. She stared at him with her vacant blue eyes, and for the first time, Eliot saw how gaunt her face was, how thin her hair had become over the last several days.

 _Eliot, stop. Please, you're scaring me._

It was her voice in his head. From the hospital. He had scared her. Parker didn't scare easily. That's what made her so unpredictable, so off the edge. Twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag, as he always said. Hypocritical, since they all had a few screws loose thanks to one thing or another.

"Come on, Eliot." Nate placed a hand on his shoulder, and Eliot had to tear his eyes from Parker. "Let's get you settled."

Slowly, moving through all the aches and pains and dizziness, they finally made it to the couch, which was set up just like Hardison had said through his bumbling rants. Eliot lowered himself down gently, going at his own pace and waving away Sophie and Nate's offered assistance. Once he was laying down, the other team members gathered in front of him. Hardison sat on the arm of the couch, Nate and Sophie sitting on the table in front of him. Parker stood behind them. A pang went through Eliot - she was still scared of him.

"Eliot, we need to talk." Nate said gently. Eliot already narrowed his eyes. Nate was never gentle, not with them, and never with Eliot. He knew what Eliot did far better then the other three, and with that in mind, he never treated Eliot with kid gloves like he did with the hacker or the little thief. But he was treating him like that now.

"Yeah, what about?" the hitter tried to play it cool, but his voice was less rough and tough than he'd have liked - sounded more like doped and medicated.

"You know what." Sophie said. "Or rather, whom. Travis Lockwood. The man you said was going to kill you."

"Ah." Eliot sighed and closed his eyes, willing his headache to go away. "Him."

"Yes. Him." Nate said, and there was some more sternness in his tone, and Eliot relaxed at that sound. "We need the story, Eliot. So spill."

The hitter knew there was no getting out of this. He had already nearly died, could have put his entire team in danger by keeping what he saw to himself at the restaurant, and now there was a very dangerous man from his past that was gunning for him - for his team, his family. The question was, would they still consider him family after they heard this story?

* * *

 _Travis and I used to be partners, in a way. We both worked for a contractor, of sorts, named Cyran Hallewell. He called the shots, had maybe a dozen men running for him. Me and Travis, we were temporary hires. Travis needed a place to hide out, someone to cover him as protection until the heat from his last job died down. Me? I was just looking for something to do until something better picked up. This was over in Beijing, back before you ever even started to hear whispers of my name, Nate. Probably why you never heard of Travis Lockwood either._

 _Now Cyran, while staying localized in Beijing, had us all over the place, getting his orders from someone higher up. We were grunt men. Cyran was like the supervisor, and then there was someone at the top, pulling all the strings. I didn't know….not until it was almost too late._

 _There was a job he sent me on, with Travis. We had been working together for almost a month, and this was to be our last job together. Travis was sticking around - the Feds had caught wind of his staying in the area and now both Interpol and local PD was on his ass - but since Cyran could cover him with immunity and invisibility (the way only the dirtiest scumbags can) he was thinking of a permanent residence with Hallewell and his goons. Me? I had a better offer over here in the states. I was leaving for San Lorenzo in a couple of days. But then, it was just me and Travis in Paris taking care of some dirty work for the man paying us the big bucks._

 _Travis had the orders. I was following his lead. I should have known there was something off. Normally Cyran gave us the orders together, but this time, I was told just to follow. And I did. I followed him all the way to a townhouse in the Riviera. It was there that I asked him what we were supposed to do, what our orders were, who we were going after. And Travis said - he said not to worry and to trust him. We had worked well together for a month now, hadn't we? I should trust him. But I couldn't shake this feeling that something was wrong. And I was right._

 _Our usual marks were opposing drug lords, heads of gangs, violent people with dark side connections. I worked for them, and I killed them when a job demanded it of me. I always got what I came for, nothing more and nothing less. I'm a killer - that's my job, my sin and my waring sign. It's mine to carry, and you can say whatever it is you will about me, but I never went off the reservation. I thought Travis was the same._

 _This townhouse we had come to, the one Travis was staking out, didn't belong to anyone like that. It belonged to a woman - a mother, and her baby girl. They had a small dog, too, one of those yippy little rats that fits inside a purse. They weren't bad people. They were innocent -_

 _Travis looked at me like he didn't know me, and i realized that I had never known him. At all. Nobody's innocent, he said to me. And then he fired a live grenade through their front window._

 _I watched as the mother and the baby girl went up in flames._

 _And I realized that Travis had never gotten orders from Cyran. I yelled at him, punched him, screamed that he deserved to be caught and slaughtered, that Cryan would never protect him now. And you know what he did?_

 _He laughed._

 _"_ _Cyran? That low level bastard? Protect me? Please. He works for me. And so do you."_

 _Travis Lockwood - my partner of sorts for over a month - was the man pulling the strings, giving the orders that sent us on wild goose chases. I thought he was a friend. I thought I could trust him._

 _But that was before he had murdered in cold blood._

 _Apparently he had thought that he and I were a team hard to beat. He wanted me to be his "business partner", run this high crime organization he had built himself that would leave him untouchable for years. And when I refused, he went ballistic._

 _I'll spare you the details here. Nothing important, anyway. Just a lot of bad memories. At the end of it, though, when he was bleeding on the ground and as I ran away - not to San Lorenzo, not where he'd know I'd be - he yelled after me._

 _"_ _I swear to God and every power granted to me, Eliot Spencer. I will be the one that brings you down. I will be the one to kill you, Eliot Spencer. And you'll never see it coming - you and anyone close to you!"_

 _I never saw him, or heard of him, since. Until now._

* * *

Eliot kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the looks of horror on his friend's faces. This was a memory he had tried so hard so stash away, and now it was out in the open to fester and eat away at him until he was lost in a maze of blood and fire and pain and screams. He never wanted to be lost in that part of himself ever again.

After a few more minutes of silence, Eliot ventured to open his eyes. No one was there except Parker. She was sitting closer now, studying him.

"Where-?"

"They left a few minutes ago once you finished." Parker said. "Research on Travis and Cyran and everything they could about what happened. This is serious, Eliot."

"I know. You think I don't, cause I do." There was no venom in his voice like there would be, once. "I don't blame you for being scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you." Parker said it so blankly, so simply, that it was impossible not to believe her. But Eliot was skilled at doing the impossible, so he managed a disbelieving look up at her. "I'm not. I'm scared for you. Sophie told me there's a difference."

"She's right. There is." Eliot spoke softly. Slowly. so slowly that for a minute, Eliot wasn't sure it was even happening, he watched as Parker leaned in, and then, as her lips came so very close to his, his eyes fluttered closed, feeling her breath on his skin.

"I'm…glad you're okay, Eliot." she whispered, and when finally her lips touched his, Eliot felt that maybe, maybe….he wasn't such a monster after all.


	23. Safe

**A/N: This next chapter will continue with the same story as the previous two chapters. Also, part of this particular chapter comes with inspiration from Anime Girl23 story "50 Sentences". I have her permission to use her prompts in my chapters, so it'd only be fair for you guys to check out her story.**

 **I also used a quote from the television show, Supernatural. See if you can find it!**

 **I hope you enjoy, and please keep reviewing! I'll be waiting….**

* * *

"I hate this." Parker griped, leaning across the kitchen counter, her eyes focused on the still form that was laid on the couch. Sophie tried not to look back with her, knowing she was only going to see the bloodied rags on the floor, the towels and the metal bowl that held the tweezers, the scalpel, and the bullets, all covered in blood. On the table was a spool of thread and a needle, once silver and now rusted red. So much blood, so much carnage. So much damage done….all to protect them.

"It's what he does, Parker."

"Well, I hate what he does!" Parker exclaimed. "He gets kicked and punched and poisoned and shot and stabbed and hung and electrocuted and hurt all the time to protect us, and it's not fair! We should be able to save him from pain the way he does from us."

Sophie sighed and chanced a glance at Nate, who hadn't moved from his spot near Eliot since they dragged their hitter's prone body here nearly twenty-four hours ago. He honestly looked worse than when he had been drinking - and that was saying a hell of a lot. Nate was worn down with worry, the concern for his toughest team member digging deep ridges into his face, and if Eliot's life hadn't been on the line, Sophie would have been concerned about his skin care. Wrinkles were a silent killer, especially in their profession. Hers, as a grifter, was always about beauty, and one couldn't be confident with wrinkles becoming ravines in one's face.

Sophie shook her head and cursed at herself. She was getting off topic. Next to Nate was Hardison. He and Parker had managed to snag some low grade hospital equipment from a nearby nursing facility, and they had immediately set about hooking Eliot onto a heart monitor and a morphine drip.

"I hate it too, Parker." Sophie sighed.

"And now look at him." Parker's lip trembled, and she was barely holding onto her control as it was. "He tried to protect us from worrying about Travis, he gets poisoned. He tried to protect us from his past, and he thinks we hate him. He tries to deal with this on his own and he nearly dies." Parker cut off with a gasp and Sophie looked up at the young woman to see tears in her eyes. Parker never cried. Sophie knew that this last job had really shaken her, though. It had shaken all of them.

"Parker. Hey, Parker, look at me. Hey." Sophie stood up and came around the counter to where the thief stood. She gently placed a hand on her back, startled when Parker actually leaned into the contact instead of away from it. "Eliot will wake up. He's going to be alright. I promise you."

Parker sniffed and wiped at her cheeks frantically, trying to steel herself again.

"You can't promise that, Sophie." she said brokenly. "Only Eliot can. And he's…."

There were no more words spoken. Sophie and Parker stood there in the kitchen, watching with shattered hearts as Nate and Hardison kept watch over their friend. Nate didn't move - he only stared blankly at the man on the couch, then at the steady lines on the heart monitor, and back again. Hardison kept his eyes on the vitals, kept checking and rechecking over and over, obsessively. Sophie knew it wasn't healthy - Nate to relive his memories of his son's death and Hardison to become completely OCD - but she also knew that this was how they were going to cope. At least, until Eliot woke up.

* * *

 _72 Hours Earlier_

* * *

" _Are we sure this is a good idea_?" Hardison asked over the coms. " _I mean, we know that this guy is no teddy bear, sure. None of our marks are. But this guy seems unnecessarily lethal. Like who needs six different offshore accounts and a private airplane hangar and an off the grid warehouse that store who knows what-"_

 _"_ _Hardison."_ Eliot's voice snarled. " _You do realize that Travis and I do practically the same job, right?"_

Sophie tried to ignore the tense banter as she made her way into the empty warehouse. She had to focus. She wasn't Sophie Deveraux anymore - she was Claudia Vanderbuilt, an notorious arms dealer. She was cruel, swift, cunning and merciless. If Travis Lockwood got even the slightest whiff of hesitation or falsehood, he'd hit her faster than she could take a breath to scream for help.

Her heels clicked loudly in the empty concrete space. She walked past rows and rows of huge wooden shipping crates, red ink stamped brightly across the boards in a language she didn't recognize. Sophie took another deep breath and schooled her features into one of indifference and disdain. No matter what he said to her, whatever curveballs that could possibly be thrown her way, she had to act as if they didn't terrify her. Taking this bastard down relied on her being able to hold her part.

Slowly, Sophie cam into view of the center of the warehouse floor. Six men were standing there, apparently waiting for her. Four of those men were tall, lean and muscled, wearing dark black suits and sunglasses.

" _Are they wearing sunglasses inside?"_ Hardison's voice complained in her ear. _"You know, only two types of people wear sunglasses indoors. Blind people, and douchebags."_

Sophie grit her teeth and smirked as they turned to face her, letting her tight black dress and spiked heels do their work. The four bodyguards were tense, and holding semi-automatics. Great. As if this couldn't get any worse.

The fifth man was Nate Ford, her cover story. Nate was using the alias Michael Greyson, one of Sophie's "arms dealers". His character was there to broker the deal for Sophie and to convince these men she was the real deal. If he couldn't make the sale, then her credibility was shot. And, most likely, so were they. But she couldn't think about that. No, she had to focus on the target. The man who had caused them so much grief - caused Eliot so much pain.

Travis Lockwood. The sixth man. He was tall and thin, wearing a more expensive suit than his grunts, and his blonde hair was trimmed and gelled back into a slick style that curled at the nape of his neck. He was very handsome, and when he turned to face her as she walked towards their little group, he smiled, his teeth glinting. Oh yes, he was very charming. As charming as a snake.

"Ah, Miss Vanderbuilt. How lovely for you to join us." Travis's voice was as smooth as silk, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Please. Call me Claudia." Sophie turned on her own charm, flashing a dazzling smile with narrowed eyes. "You must, after all, if we are to be business partners."

"Well, then, Claudia. Let me fill you in on what we've been discussing." Travis said, beginning a slow pace around her. An uneasy feeling crept into the back of her mind, but she held still, forcing herself not to follow him. This was a power play. They had to get Travis to believe he held all the cards, or this was never going to work.

"By all means, clue me in, Mr. Lockwood."

"Travis."

"Travis." Sophie said softly. The uneasiness was stronger now….something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

"Well, Claudia. Before you arrived, me and my boys here were just talking to your dealer friend here, Mr. Greyson. Talking about the deal you two offered me."

"You like?" Sophie purred. Travis was still walking circles around her, his men flanking Nate and her, guns cocked and loaded. Sophie had to hope that the feed from her button camera on her blouse was coming through to Parker, Eliot, and Hardison. There had been no word over the comms of a plan or any helpful information. It was silent except for the steady rhythm of Travis's designer shoes wearing a pattern into the concrete.

"Well, that's just it." Travis said softly. He stopped his pacing and leaned in close to Sophie, close enough that she could smell the thick cologne he wore. "You see, I just found me a better offer."

Travis snapped his fingers and two of the men broke off. They moved quickly, heading back the way Sophie had come, moving through the maze of oversized crates. The other two goons raised their weapons, one aimed at Nate and the other at Sophie. Sophie realized that she hadn't seen Nate's face yet. He was faced away from her. Sophie's bad feeling got worse.

There was the sound of a scuffle, a grunt, the sound of skin son skin - a hard smack - and the two men Travis had sent off came back around the corner - and they were dragging Parker behind them.

They had her by her hair, which was dirty now and clumped with blood. Her face was bruised and one of her eyes was already swelling shut. There was blood on her lips, and her hands and feet were bound in front of her. Sophie bit her lips to stop a gasp from breaking out but it was too late. They were already caught. The two goons dragged Parker right up to them and dropped her at Sophie's feet.

"You son of a bitch." Parker wheezed. "You have no idea what you've done."

"Found this little birdie weaseling her way through our air vents." Travis chuckled. "She's a pretty thing, isn't she? Too bad."

"Leave her alone." Nate snarled, all pretense gone.

"You know I can't do that….Nate." Travis snarled. "Oh, did I forget to mention? I know exactly who you are."

This was not good. Not good at all. Sophie let out a breath and glared at the man still leering at her. Jobs went south -that's how the game worked. But they had never gone this bad, this fast before. And it was only just beginning.

"What, how dumb do think I am? You think I wouldn't do my homework? Or did you think I wouldn't recognize you from the restaurant?" Travis yelled. "Nate Ford, former insurance agent for IYS, now the head of a do-gooder organization that cons the Big Bad Wolves of the world. Then Parker." he gave the blonde a little tap with his foot, making her twitch. "Talk about insane. I mean, she's literally fucking insane! Blew up her own dad when she was eight, bounced around from foster home to foster home….damn girl, if I had met you first, you would have made a fine grunt."

"Bite me." Parker spat a mouthful of blood at him, barely missing his sleek and shiny shoes. Travis jumped back slightly, snarling. Luckily, he didn't retaliate, just moved on to Sophie.

"And then there's Miss Sophie Deveraux. Oh, you're good. Very impressive acting job. Almost had me convinced. But not quite." Travis leaned in close to her. "You have no idea who you're messing with. This is my game. It's always been my game. You want to play it, fine. But don't come after me with a half-assed con that wouldn't even fool a room of six year old monkeys!"

Travis snapped his fingers and another sound of a scuffle came from the opposite end of the warehouse. Two more men came out from the shadows, and this time, they were dragging Hardison by his left arm, the right being twisted into an unnatural angle. His face was unbruised, no blood visible, but it was twisted into a knot of pain. Sophie glanced into his eyes and saw the fear she knew was reserved for when things got really, really bad.

"Here comes Number Four. Clever, setting up shop in an unmarked van around the corner." Travis walked towards the hacker. It was unnerving how calm the bastard was. He really thought he had the upper hand, and he took pleasure in that.

"Not clever enough, apparently." Sophie remarked.

"Please, gorgeous." Travis looked back at her with something akin to pity in his black eyes. "I invented that trick. You're playing my game, remember?" He snapped his fingers again, and all six goons of his went into action. One grabbed Sophie, none to gently, and the other grabbed Nate, turning him so that Sophie got the first glimpse of his face. One eye was swollen, and his lip was bleeding. The other grunts snatched Parker from the floor and hauled her to a standing position, and the others yanked Hardison forward. Travis whistled and twirled another finger. The men moved positions again, yanking them harshly around until they stood in a straight line.

"Well, you certainly have them trained." Nate quipped, earning him a swift punch to the center of his back.

"I run a tight ship." Travis shrugged.

"You must really be worried about us." Nate continued, slightly out of breath. "So many guards just for us? If you've been watching us as closely as you say you have, you must know that we're not threats."

"You're right." Travis walked a few ways away before turning to smirk. "You're not a threat. But I know who is."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Barely a second passed from the sound of Eliot's voice echoing in the concrete warehouse to when the first shot went off. Immediately, the guards dropped the four of them to the floor, whipping out their guns and diving for their boss. Travis, however, remained still.

"Eliot. Come out, come out, wherever you are." Travis sang. "We've got a real party going on. How bout you join us?"

"Got to even things out a bit first." Eliot's voice called again. There were so many echoes, it was impossible to pinpoint the direction from where it originated. Good. Sophie glanced at Hardison. It was working.

Another shot went off, and suddenly one of the guards went down hard, a feathery purple dart lodged in his neck. Travis looked madly surprised and quickly plucked it up.

"Tranquilizers?" he scoffed, tossing it aside. "What are we? Twelve?"

"These are bigger than kiddie toys, Lockwood." Another shot, another guard down. There were four left standing. "You see, I took a page out of your book." Another shot. Three left. "These tranquilizers aren't just loaded with the regular knock out drowsy drugs. They're laced with morphine and phosphorus. One drug to dull the senses, the other to shut them down." Another shot. Two left. The guards were getting frazzled, but Travis just looked pissed.

"Real cute. So what, you going to kill them, then kill me?"

"Nah." Two quick shots, and both guards were down, leaving Travis standing alone. "You ain't that lucky."

And then, there he was. Eliot strode into view from the shadows, all in black gear, his hair loose around his face, making his eyes seem darker and more menacing. There was a long serrated knife in his right hand. Sophie thought he looked every bit the killer that he used to be.

"There you are." Travis said softly, and the tone in his voice caught Sophie off guard. From her place on the ground, she snuck a look at this man, and saw, with disgust, he looked almost insanely happy that Eliot had shown himself. He was relishing this moment.

"Yeah. You wanted me, you got me."

"Oh, I got more than just you." Travis sneered. "You think these were my only guards?"

"I know they're not." Eliot said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Which is why I'm gonna give you one chance for a fair fight."

Travis paused, and Sophie could tell he was seriously considering the words Eliot was saying. Sophie twisted her head to see Parker, Hardison and Nate looking at them, too. None of them even dared to try and get up off the ground. This was between their hitter and his enemy.

"You serious?"

"I don't joke." Eliot said, gesturing at the four of them. "Ask any of them. Not in my nature."

There was another pause. Then,

"Get them up. Five minutes."

In a flash, Eliot's knife was sheathed and he ran over to where they were. He helped Sophie sit up, gingerly brushing her hair from her face, before moving to get Nate up. She could hear him murmuring something, most likely checking Nate's coherency, which the older man brushed off. Hardison was next, Eliot ripping off a slice of the hacker's shirt to use as a makeshift sling for his right arm. Then he was at Parker's side, and for a full second, Eliot let his mask slip. It wasn't much, and Travis had his back turned so he didn't see, but Sophie did. The complete and utter heartbreak.

"Parker. Hey, hold on for me, darlin'." Eliot said softly. He yanked his knife out again and sliced through the ropes that had her hog tied. As soon as she was free, Parker reached forward and wrapped her arms around Eliot. It nearly broke Sophie. Those two, more than anyone, deserved some pure goodness and love, every scrap of it. Sophie watched, even as Nate came and helped her up, as they hurried to get Hardison on his feet, as Eliot and Parker whispered to each other, and he cupped her face and pressed his lips once to hers. Then -

"Time's up." Travis said.

"Go. Get out of here." Eliot ordered, standing. Parker was still clinging to him.

"What? No, Eliot. We're not going to leave you here with him."

"Look, that's the deal. You guys get to run and I'm staying here. Travis wants me. He won't come after you, not when he's got a better fight in front of him." Eliot explained. he was already pushing them towards the side door closest to where they left the van. "Parker, I need you to hold on for me, okay? Take them to the house I showed you once. Remember? Good. Stay there."

"Eliot, this is suicide." Nate cut in brokenly.

"Not if I'm not the one who's going to die." Eliot said and there was something so dark, so twisted in his eyes that Sophie couldn't bear to look anymore. Instead she grabbed her small family and dragged them away from their protector and out the door and into the frigid air.

* * *

 _Present_

* * *

"Why did he have to do it alone?" Parker whimpered. The bruises were almost faded now, more yellow-green than the purple they had been a few days ago.

"Well, we weren't in any position to help him." Sophie said, glancing back at Hardison, working half pace with his dominant hand in a plaster cast. "Besides, that's what he does. Who he is."

"I know." the blonde whispered. "And I love him for that, I think. But -"

Sophie had never found out what it was Parker was going to dispute because at that moment, a strangled groan came from the couch. The women looked at each other and then dove for the common room. It was remarkably similar to the apartment back in the city. They were, in fact, in a safe house right on the Cape, an old vintage looking place with surprisingly up to date security. It was one of Eliot's, Parker had told them when they pulled up three days ago. Apparently, he had one in almost every state, just for emergencies. They were going to hole up there for a while until some of the heat from the Lockwood fiasco died down.

Another groan, and Sophie focused her attention on the beaten man in front of her. Eliot had shown up almost twenty-four hours after the four of them had reached the safe house. He had literally staggered through the front door, announced that Travis Lockwood was dead, and then promptly face planted into the carpet. The four of them had been shocked, no one moving until Parker screamed his name and ran forward, turning him over to see the damage - and that had been horrifyingly extensive.

Eliot had been stabbed, slashed, beaten, drugged, and electrocuted in a matter of hours after they left and practically left for dead. How he had gone through all of that and still managed to kill Travis was beyond them, but they could always ask questions later. Right there and then, they needed to think fast in order to save the one who always saved them.

That had been two days ago, and now he was finally showing signs of waking.

Slowly, Eliot's eyes opened and came into focus. One at a time, he looked at the four faces that hovered above him, moving from Sophie, to Hardison, Nate, and then finally Parker. Gently, more gentle that the grifter had ever seen the thief be, Parker leaned over the edge of the soft couch and pressed her lips to Eliot's forward, one hand running through his hair, which, surprisingly, had been cleaner than the rest of him.

"You are an idiot." Parker said. "Plain and simple."

Eliot licked his lips and swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Maybe." he whispered, and Sophie held back a sob. Nate placed a hand on her back and she leaned into him. "But it made sense to me at the time."

"What did?" Hardison asked.

"Hanging back while you got safe."

Because that's what he did.


	24. Sick Days

**A/N: Okay! We are back to our regularly scheduled one shots. All one shots are unrelated and out of any specific order unless otherwise stated. Thanks so much for the fabulous reviews. Keep it up! No spoilers, really, but some inside jokes.**

 **This is a little bit different than what I usually do, so I apologize for the weirdness. Also, just moved into college so updates are going to be sporadic at best. Sorry! It's been wild and I broke my arm….so yeah. This should be interesting.**

 **P.S: I don't own anything except these little one shot plots.**

* * *

When Alec Hardison was sick, it was considered a well deserved break. Not that a whole lot changed from his end of things. But still, being sick was practically a vacation in their line of work, especially with the increase in bad guys being that much badder. Translation: when did this many people start carrying guns? So, when Alec Hardison was sick, there wasn't much he asked for besides the basic essentials for his utmost comfort.

First off, being sick, in any respect, was dangerous on any job. Unless they were working another Order 23 Job, any sneezing, vomiting, fever induced shivering or scratchy throat was not going to be helpful. Luckily for him, Hardison's main job could just as easily be worked from the main office as it could from the van on the scene. So he settled down on the couch back at the office, his multitude of gadgets and computers and screens all set up to keep him company (plus a sidelined gaming system he could tap into when things were slow). He'd plug in, snug as a techno bug in a micro-rug and lounge around as he worked from home. The perks of being a geek instead of a physique.

Nine times out of ten, the ailment that finally shot down the Almighty Alec Hardison was usually a head cold or something that made his brain go all fuzzy. He could still function but his reaction times were all over the place, and it would take him twice as long to hack through even the simplest systems. So he wasn't completely out of the game….but he sure as hell would milk it for all it was worth.

Nate would bitch and moan that Hardison was a grown man, that it was just a stupid cold, that he didn't need babying. But the man had been a father once, and those instincts don't just disappear over time, especially for a man who had rebuilt his life around their conniving little dysfunctional family of thieves. If Hardison was sick, he could count on Nate to supply the cold medicine, and the strong stuff, too. He was the one to drop off the pain meds, the NyQuil or DayQuil or whatever and every now and then, a quick "How's it going, Alec" through the comms. It reminded Hardison of how his Nana would always be whenever one of the kids got sick with something. Man could be a hard-ass, but he was a hard-ass who cared.

Sophie was the one who'd mother him. Did he say mother? He meant to say _smother._ Blankets, hot tea, candles, water vapor machines, soothing sounds that would help him relax. All he had to do was ask for it, and Sophie was off to the races. Now and then she'd refuse (like when he asked her to go pick up the latest installation system for his gaming system) but when he said he felt a little shivery, all of a sudden, Alec found himself buried under mounds of blankets she had dragged from who knew where.

Parker just talked. She kept him company, which, frankly, meant a whole lot more to him than anything else. Once he was settled, and if they weren't working on anything immediate, the blonde piece of wonderful would come plop right next to him and just start talking about anything and everything. Most times it never made any sense, just the ramblings of the quirky thief. But Hardison didn't care. he was just happy being the center of her attention for a short while.

Eliot wasn't a huge fan of attention, whether giving it or receiving it. His version of helping usually involved throwing a pillow at his face and a bucket at his feet and telling him not to stink up the place. But Hardison knew, though he would never say lest Eliot actually kill him, that their hitter was actually a big softie. When Hardison woke up from his sporadic naps, there was always a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup on the table beside him, along with some Advil, a bottle of water and a glass of orange soda. Sometimes there'd even be a chocolate chip cookie. Eliot cared. He wouldn't show it in open gestures or verbalize it like any normal human being, but he cared. They all did.

So when Hardison was sick, he didn't feel like a burden or a liability, something that did occur to him every now and then on the job. They didn't get a lot of time to relax, not with what they did for a living. But when he was sick, he could really and truly let himself relax because he knew his family was watching out for him.

* * *

When Sophie was sick, it was like the end of the world. She had no energy to style her

hair, put on makeup, get dressed into anything other than sweats, even pull off a simple grift. It was embarrassing to her stage, and she spent most of her time moaning and groaning in Nate's bed, eyes red and puffy and her sinuses congested. One would have thought with all her theatrics that she was dying…again. For real. But Sophie Deveraux was just a very clingy sickie.

Sophie Deveraux was nothing if not independent. Like the others, she had worked alone for years before joining their little squad. So the first time she got caught down with the flu, it was surprising how much she utterly craved contact with others. No matter how many times Nate or Eliot told her to go lie back down and rest, she would always be up again in an hour, insisting she was fine and could work, or that she was lonely and bored. It was an endless cycle of tears and pouty faces until one of them just gave in and went to stay by her bedside. The queen of drama had them all wrapped around her finger.

Nate was the one she called for the most, not that that was surprising in the least. Her usually smooth voice, now cracked and hoarse with phlegm, called brokenly for him whenever he left her side, and Nate, with nothing more than a tired sigh and a roll of his eyes, would trudge back up to see what she needed. But it was all for show, and the three other thieves knew it. They knew how much he hated it when she was sick, and every time her fever spiked, how he would worry and fuss, mopping her forehead with a damp cloth, just sitting there talking to her. Perhaps it brought back to many bad memories, or maybe his alcohol soaked heart just sobered up where Sophie was concerned. In any case, despite how he grouched to Eliot, snapped at Hardison, or sighed at Parker, he was nothing but soft and kind with the beautiful grifter.

But there were times, especially doing a job, when Nate couldn't be spared to just by Sophie's bedside. With their professional grifter out for the count, the parts had to be split with the four left standing. So when Nate and the two physically psyched out thieves were out doing their thang, Hardison was left on Sophie Watch.

Hardison complained. A lot. He griped and he snarked and made sarcastic remarks when one of the others would put him in his place with an ill-timed quip (usually Eliot). Sometimes it sucked to be left back in the van, even though without him, the others would have no escape plan. Nothing safe, anyway, or easy. So being the one to automatically be the first one to watch Sophie whenever she was sick was like putting a good cop on desk duty, taking the quarterback out of the big game, being called up to babysit someone's little sister. It was degrading, to say the least.

Except, it wasn't. Not when Sophie smiled at him as he handed her cups of hot tea and laid a blanket over her as she fell asleep, making these cute little snores that he recorded and vowed to use the next time she made a quip over his nerdy gaming habits. Not when she sighed in relief when he handed her medicine to help with the throbbing in her head, or when she called him a sweetheart every time he held her hair back when she got nauseous.

Alec Hardison could complain and moan and gag all he wanted when he did all of this, but in reality, his secret was that he actually didn't mind it that much. It made him feel useful to be able to help her when she was down instead of watching from the sidelines, his usual job description. Sophie did a lot for him when he was sick. Least he could is return the favor.

Parker's "care taking" style was different, to say the least. She and Sophie had a different bond, where the older woman tried to take the blonde wackadoo under her wing and mold her into something Sophie-esque. Didn't always work, but Parker had really taken the grifter into her life as a confidante, someone she could open up to whenever she was confused. Which was often, seeing as Parker didn't really get social cues too well. (Case in point: freaking out and stabbing a Serbian mark with a fork before diving off a balcony). So if Sophie was out, and the boys in the field, Parker took things into her own hands.

Sophie knew she wasn't getting any rest and relaxation with Parker on duty. The thief would come to where she was lying, carrying a tray of cookies, juice, milk, croissants and bread from the bakery across the street, coffee, hot tea, honey, and cereal, set that down on her lap before sitting down herself. It was as much for Sophie's benefit as it was for Parker. They'd split the food and talk for as long as either one of them needed. For Sophie, it distracted her from the fact that she was stuck with nothing to do. For Parker, it was to solidify the connection they had made.

Her style was just to talk and talk and talk about everything, happy and content to let Sophie listen while she rambled on about heists she had pulled or question why it was that she loved when Eliot taught her how to fight and when he trained with her, or even talk about her fear of horses (sometimes Sophie had to reiterate that the horse what killed a clown when she was eight was not the same as other horses).

Eliot was a quieter touch. The big grouchy hitter could be surprisingly gentle when he wanted to be, and that side of him was shown more to his team, now his family, than anyone else. More specifically, to the ladies of Leverage.

Eliot Spencer wasn't a verbal kind of man. Any comforting he did was said in actions rather than words, since that was always louder in his book. Talking about feelings and emotional things or wellbeing wasn't his specialty. Humming a lullaby his mama used to sing to him as he cleaned up around the bed where Sophie huddled, was. Maybe leaving a small bowl of soup - carrot and mushroom and chicken broth. Turning the television onto a fashion show with the volume down. Placing a few designer catalogues on the end table where she could reach them when she woke up from a nap.

Those were the actions that meant the world to Sophie Deveraux. Because even though she was fiercely independent, sometimes it was wonderful just to be taken care of.

* * *

Nathen Ford did not get sick. No, he was "under the weather" but "completely fine". The problem with Nate was that anything that inhibited him in any way somehow made him stronger. It was why he had been considered a functioning alcoholic for so long. But everyone had a crashing point, and Nate tended to burn on his way down.

One day Nate would be at the top of his game, and the next he would be coughing in rasping, painful fits. He'd get lethargic, he'd sweat profusely, and you could tell there was a major migraine on the way by the way he held his head. Shaking and borderline feverish, though, Nate stayed on the job and the rest of them could only watch and try to make sure he didn't pass out in front of a mark.

Sophie was in charge of keeping him hydrated and well fed. Nate had a tendency to ignore all that when it came to his own health, so Sophie, being the master manipulator, was in charge of weaseling some food and drink into him any ways she could. Luckily, when it came to arguing, Nate wasn't the strongest when he was sick, so Sophie had the easiest job out of the four of them. She had an angels touch, and that soothed him when he got agitated. And boy, did Nate get agitated. It came with his not being used to really being a part of a family that looked out for each other. He hadn't been used to it for a long time.

In his case, Parker's method of caring was _not_ talking. Since Nate refused to be sidelined by his own team when a job was being run, he was delegated to the van to supervise. And when it was Parker's turn to sit and wait with him, it was done in silence. She sat there, and when she was comfortable enough, she would lean into him. Nate would cough and try to swipe her away, but Parker, being Parker, wouldn't listen and eventually Nate would be resigned to the fact that she wasn't moving and her warmth and weight would be a secretly comforting feeling for as long as they sat there.

Hardison was the same, except his method of caring came in the form of new movies and TV shows uploaded to the portable monitors, sometimes a new client list, some article updates on the losers they had previously taken down. Anything and everything to keep him occupied and to show that he was paying attention, reading the signals loud and clear.

Eliot was the enforcer. When it came to Nate, his caring gestures came in the form of angry outbursts that put them all on edge. Since Nate refused to take care of himself and insisted on coming along and put them all at risk, Eliot was in charge of making sure it never went too far. If Nate wanted to play a mark, Eliot was the one who made the final call. If Nate was refusing to take his pain meds, or was being a general pain in the ass, Eliot barked and order and made him listen. Despite Nate being the leader of their motley crew, there was no doubt about it that Eliot was his second in command. He did what he had to do to ensure everyone's safety, and that included putting their sick asses in their place when he needed to. No one was going to dare contradict an easily pissed off hitter - especially when all he was trying to do was help.

They all learned that the hard way.

So maybe Nate was a pain in the ass when he got a little sick. The others more than repaid him for his efforts in the long run, anyway.

* * *

Parker was an enigma. Every time she came down with something, they had to treat it as something new. Sometimes she wanted everyone around her, fussing, or then she wanted to be left completely alone until it passed. Sometimes she wanted all her favorite foods - junk - and movies - horror - and everything comfy and cozy, and then another time she would be out rappelling until she threw up. There was never a single constant in how to deal with Parker, but thieves were nothing if not resourceful.

No matter how many times she gave him puppy dog eyes or pouty lips, Nate was resolute in being a strong father figure in her life. And that meant even when she was sick and whiny. So Nate was the one to sit with her, pull her back when she tried to run away (which was often), order to her bed, and hold her hair back when rolling in her stomach made a full wave. He would sit with her and talk, tell her about his years with IYS, with Maggie, with Sam. He'd tell her these little secrets because he knew how much she coveted them. As crazy as she was, Parker wasn't a snitch when it came to personal things. So he'd tell her pieces of his life, things nobody knew, telling them like he'd tell a child a bedtime story. It worked like a charm every time - within the hour, Parker would be fast asleep, a quirky smile on her face.

Sophie was her chef - repaying the favor, to say the least, from when Parker cared for her when she was down and out. There would be broth (Parker had a fear of floating vegetables), ramen, fortune cookies, cereal and skim milk, saltine crackers, apples…everything the thief liked, and they would slowly take their time eating all the goodies Sophie had brought. And while she wasn't as good as divulging secrets as Nate, or just talking about nothing like Parker, Sophie did have one interesting skillset: grifting. So will Parker as her sometimes - willing prisoner, she would reenact some of her greatest cons, and teach Parker some of the tricks of the trade. Just in case.

Hardison looked forward to when Parker was sick and listless because it gave him the chance to shamelessly dote on her (though she hardly saw the flirting for what it was). He set up shop on the chair next to the couch, since that's where she preferred once they dragged her from her hangar to the office, and started a stream of all the best movies online. If she got bored or fell asleep, or looked like she was ready to bolt, Hardison would set up his World of Warcraft and started teaching her how to play. Turns out killing orcs was very therapeutic, and Parker got to find new ways to take out her crazy psychotic rage in a burst of colors and slamming buttons and hoarse yelling at the tv screen. Hey, it gave her something to do.

Eliot was the gentlest with Parker. Maybe it was because she, out of all of them, was so vulnerable, even when she didn't realize it. Maybe it was something deeper, though both of them would deny anything if suggested. He was the one to bring her blankets, and the only one she trusted to handle Bunny. And when she got extremely clingy, he was the one to lay with her on the couch, and rub her back until she fell asleep in his arms.

Parker learned that it was okay to lean on people when she was sick. That's what family was for, anyway. Right?

* * *

No one ever really caught Eliot when he was sick. He did his very best to hide every trace, so most of the time, once they noticed, he had already taken care of himself. It was just how he was. Though they all had worked alone at some point in their devious lives, Eliot was the literal lone wolf. He withheld a lot of his life, his secrets dark and so far hidden in the shadows that no ray of light could ever reach them. He had always taken care of himself, and despite having worked with his newfound family for a long, long time, Eliot hadn't broken himself of the habit of licking his own wounds until they healed. So the other four members of Leverage were helpless. Most of the time.

It was like being let in on a big secret, one at a time. They couldn't all be there for him - Eliot wouldn't let them - but one by one they got a glimpse of the vulnerable Eliot Spencer. Nate, of course, was the first.

It was one of those nights when there was nothing left to do for the job except wait it out, so everyone was allowed a little private time. Parker was probably either with Hardison (who was still trying to teach her World of Warcraft) or zip lining through the city on her own rigging. Sophie was lying low in her own private home, most likely prepping for her next audition. Eliot was….well, who knew, and Nate was preparing to have his apartment -turned - HQ all to himself.

As soon as he opened the door, Nate knew something was off. Nothing he could see…it was just a feeling. Years of running after criminals and now years of working with them gave him a sort of sixth sense when it came to certain situations. This was one of those times.

Nate crept into his apartment, wishing, not for the first time, that he had a weapon on him - or at the very least, knew some basic self defense fighting techniques. He'd have to ask Eliot -

Nate stopped as he came into view of the center of his apartment. It was spotless, just as he left it, except for one thing. There on the couch, with a mug of something steaming and an open pill bottle on the side table, was Eliot Spencer, a cloth laid over his eyes, his body straight and stiff on the couch, but his breathing deep with sleep. Nate crept closer to the sleeping hitter, mindful of the fact that stealing a sleeping assassin was a lot like poking a hibernating grizzly with a stick. He had never seen Eliot so vulnerable before, even in all the years they had known each other. Nate wanted to take the chance to observe something so rare before it disappeared.

The steaming mug on the table was actually hot tea - he could smell the honey - and the bottle was some heavy duty painkillers that they saved for cloth over his eyes was damp.

 _Migraine._

Nate sighed, knowing how much those intense headaches took out of Eliot. No wonder he was knocked out. Normally, Eliot would have headed this off long before he was down for the count and instead of crashing here, he would have gone to one of his safe houses. But because of this last job, he hadn't had the chance, and here he was, out in the open in the next best place, riding it out.

There was nothing he could do now. Eliot was a pro at handling things himself, and that left Nate feeling helpless. The former IYS agent didn't like feeling helpless.

So instead, Nate shut off all the lights, plunging the room in soothing darkness, before heading out the way he had come. Sophie wouldn't mind him coming over, anyways.

Hardison caught him next. This time it wasn't anything as major as a migraine, but it was still a sight to see. This job was just a little test run before they tried it out in the big leagues, and the current positions left Eliot and Hardison unneeded in the van. So Nate and Sophie were out there playing the power couple and Parker was doing her thing, and Hardison was monitoring them all through the comms and the cameras when all of a sudden, an explosive choking noise came from his left.

It was a sneeze. Holy crap. Eliot was rubbing his face roughly, and though a second before he had seemed fine, suddenly, Hardison noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and his breathing seemed congested. Eliot sniffed again, coughed, and another rupturing sneeze shook the van.

"Dude, are you alright?" he asked. It was unusual to see Eliot this….well, he looked like hell, and that was saying something. Eliot had been beaten, bloodied, hammered, tasered, and altogether had been run through the mill several times.

"Just focus on the job." Eliot snapped, though the bark in his bite wasn't very effective, seeing as it sounded more like "jus bocus on da bob". Yeah, he was definitely sick. But any administrations Hardison might consider administering were pointless. Eliot would literally kill him if he tried. So he did what was asked and focused on the job at hand. Mostly. Hard to ignore the constant sniffles and coughing and hacking.

Eliot never liked being babied or taken care of. Nah, he was a macho cowboy man all the way. So the best he could do was to push a few buttons and make sure that a full bottle of cough syrup and some Advil was waiting for him when they got back home. It wasn't much, but it was better than letting the big brother he never had suffer in silence.

It was Sophie's fault the next time he got sick, though no one knew this. She had so wanted to learn some more advanced culinary skills to add to her resume, and Eliot had graciously offered to teach her to cook. Sophie had been thrilled - finally, she got to see the gentler, passionate and artistic side of Eliot Spencer, the side that was as rare as albino pandas. They got together every weekend, if they could, and he would run through some of him cooking skills, teaching her tricks and helping her prepare dishes. It was absolutely delightful, and finally, Eliot declared her fit to try something on her own. This was her chance. Things had never really ben fixed ever since Sophie had ever so slightly conned them in the First David Job. Eliot's trust in her had been broken, and it taken them a long time to get back to the swing of things.

Sophie had spent hours prepping her dish for Eliot to try. He had taken so much time to teach her, when she knew he preferred to be by himself, lone wolf as he was. She was making seared steak fillet with a side of asparagus and a kind of egg paste that she had seen on the Food Network that looked intriguing. Eliot came, and instead of coming into the kitchen to peer over her shoulder, he simply grabbed two wine glasses, a bottle of Chardonnay, and went to relax in the living room where Sophie had turned on the football game. She was just so excited.

And then it all went to hell.

Who knew that eggs went bad?

Cause she did not.

Two hours later, Eliot finished puking into her toilet, his hair tied back with one of her scrunchies and Sophie hovering over him, her mascara smudged and dark lines streaking down her face.

"I cannot believe I gave you food poisoning." She muttered.

"Soph, it's okay. I'm okay."

He wasn't, and she knew that. But what else could she say? Nothing, as Eliot paled again and continued to retch. So she did what she was best at - she mothered. Sophie knew it was going to be a long night (she was not letting Eliot leave when he was basically trying to heave out his entire stomach) so she grabbed water bottles, some pillows, and a heavy blanket to drape around his shoulders. And then she sat there, holding his hair back as he suffered through salmonella and rubbed his back, wishing she could have done this one thing right.

Parker saw him when he was at a low point. He hadn't been to work in a couple of days, and the excuse he had pawned off to Nate clearly wasn't enough to satisfy the jumpy thief, so she had decided to visit him unannounced in his private home. Or rather, his safe house. And there she found him in his bed, totally incapacitated by a raging fever.

When Eliot had a fever, he was delirious. Mostly this was because his fevers were never small. They were always higher than anyone else could possibly handle, so it was not a huge surprise when Parker swooped in through his window to find Eliot sprawled on his bed, soaked in sweat, his hair plastered to his face, moaning in his sleep.

Not what she was expecting, to say the least.

And she was fascinated. Eliot was Superman. So why did he seem so human all of a sudden? And the higher his fever rose, the more he moaned and whined in discomfort, and the more Parker found herself almost crying because she just wanted to help, and that was something she was not good at. So she stood there, watching, biting her lip until it bled, until she heard something. It wasn't a sound anymore - Eliot's moans had turned into words. He was speaking through his delirium.

"Please…" he whispered. "Cold…."

"Eliot?" Parker whispered, moving forward to be closer to his sweat soaked bed. "Eliot?"

She reached out to touch him, and the second she did, he sighed and relaxed back into the bed. Parker was shocked. Slowly, she reached forward again and ran her fingers through his damp hair, watching him calm down and relax into the pillows. Parker had an idea and quickly, so he wouldn't get agitated again, she ran to his bathroom and soaked a cloth with cold water. She hurried back, but already Eliot looked distressed. His fever was really messing with him - normally he would never be caught dead looking so vulnerable and child like.

Parker tentatively laid the cool cloth on his forehead and sat cross legged on the bed. Eliot relaxed, and there was an appreciative smile on his face. Parker smiled back, though she knew he would never see it, never even know she was there. She didn't mind though, she thought as she ran her fingers through his hair. This would just be her little secret.

So yeah, Eliot didn't like them knowing he was sick. He didn't like the fussing they would do, the worried glances, the concerned comments of his health. He hated it. He had been on his own for more than twenty years, dammit!

But…

Those little gestures they thought he didn't notice. The lights, the medicine, the blankets, the cool cloths….he knew who was responsible. And he would never say it, but it meant the world to him because after all this time of being alone….he finally had a family again that would brave his prickly exterior.

He would let them think it was just one big secret. What was one more, anyway?


	25. Kids?

**A/N: And now, some more fluff for your entertainment. So much Eliot, I know. Sorry this one kind of sucks, but I'm working on a tight time budget.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage.**

 **Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

"I never could understand why people would go through all of that." Eliot said.

"All of what?" Nate asked, confused. The others, too, cocked their heads and looked at their hitter, wondering what he meant. They had just finished a Happy Ending job - taking down the bad guys and getting the victim a heavy advance on his next paycheck just in time to rush him to his wife's side - the wife who had gone into labor just as things went south. But alls well that ends well, and now Mark Donovan and his wife Cherry had a new baby girl, Ellie. It was beautiful….or at least, to everyone but Eliot Spencer.

"That. Having kids, getting married." Eliot shrugged.

"What? You got something against love?" Sophie asked.

"No, it's not that." Eliot snapped. "Just…look what happened today. Look what Donovan does for a living. He was a hired gun, tried to retire, and he still got dragged back in. His wife, too, and it almost cost him his family. And sure, everything's fine now, but they've got a baby girl to think of. What if it happens again? We can't be counted on to save the day every time. What if something happens to Ellie? Why would anyone put that at risk?"

No one knew what to say. They stood there, watching Mark and Cherry coo over their brand new baby, all the horrors of that morning gone for the moment as they reveled in their happiness. Each member of the Leverage team was lost in thought, thinking of their own lives, the dangerous jobs they held, and the idea that this kind of happiness might be out of their reach….because having it could mean the worst pain ever experienced.

They stayed silent as they left the hospital, and all the way back to their HQ. They stayed silent as they walked through the door, each of them making their way back to their respective areas when Nate broke the silence.

"Human nature."

They all stopped, trying to piece this seemingly random sentence to the conversation from earlier. One by one, they all turned back around to face their mastermind and friend, four sets of curious eyes landing on one contemplative pair.

"What?" Parker asked.

"Human nature." Nate said again. "Eliot wondered why people in our profession, or in general, would get married, have kids, when there was the possibility of something bad happening. Of them being hurt and taken from us." There was a beat of silence, as they remembered that Nate knew this better than any of them. "And the answer is human nature. We all want it. We all think about it. I bet none of you can honestly say that you haven't thought about having kids, what you would name them, how they would look like."

No one spoke, and whether they were actually thinking about this or not, Nate wasn't sure. But he knew that this was something they maybe needed to address. They were his team, his family. They all deserved better in life than this one of lies and deceit.

"You all know about Sam. My son. What happened to him, what IYS did." Nate spoke softly, and he felt a twinge of pain as he remembered, in flashes, his baby boy. The day he was born, the day he was baptized, when he took his first steps, his first day of school, his first soccer game, the day he was diagnosed, the day he…..

"That's exactly my point, though, Nate." Eliot said quietly. "No one should go through that pain."

"But what you don't know," Nate continued. "is that even though that happened, even though my marriage was over, I never stopped dreaming of a family. Of trying again, once I got over Sam. Of having a daughter. Sophia Grace. I kept dreaming of it because it's human nature to want that kind of closeness, that kind of love. I don't care who you are - everyone dreams of this at some point in their life."

It brought on the question - what if this wasn't their life? What if they all could have that happy ending?

"I do love children." Sophie said, trying to disguise the fact that she was on the verge of crying at the name of Nate's nonexistent daughter. "I never thought I'd be a mother, since….you know. Commitment. Being tied to one place. But I will admit….sometimes I see all the adorable outfits and shoes and I just…wish I could spoil one of my own. A boy and a girl, one of each, you know? Like maybe an Alexander Charles Deveraux or Nicoletta Rosa. Something quaint and charming and we'd live in Paris and oh…." she sighed, blushing faintly at the tender fantasy.

"Nah, man. Kids and me, we too alike." Hardison joked. "I mean….I never really thought about it. Age of the geek. I'm in my prime. Why think about settling down when there are so many fish in the sea? I mean, have a I thought about a couple of super genius computer whiz kids of my own? It's possible. Have I thought about calling them Thomas or Angel or Lucille…..it may have crossed my mind. But still, it's not like I think about it a lot." Hardison cleared his throat awkwardly, determinedly not looking at any of them.

"I don't like kids and they don't like me." Parker said bluntly. "I'd be a terrible mother."

"Parker, don't say that." Sophie scolded.

"Why not?"

"You might think kids hate you, but it's all different when it's your baby." Nate said gently. "Haven't you ever thought about it, Parker? A husband and a couple of kids?"

"Partners in crime?" Eliot whispered jokingly, but Parker's eyes lit up anyways.

"I guess I never thought about it like that. Ooh, we'd be a family of thieves, like we are! My husband would be super tough and he'd rappel with me, and our kids - they'd be like ninjas! And they'd have cool single names, like mine. Sugar. Or Mason. Or Ratchet. Ooh, I like that. Ratchet. And he'd look like his daddy." Parker smiled, and no one dared to break the happy little fantasy inside her head to ask who her fantasy husband was that would father adorable imaginary Ratchet. Despite what she thought, Parker would make an amazing mother, albeit a quirky one.

"Eliot?"

They waited, hoping he would say something. deserved a family to love. Everyone deserved a chance at a normal life. A better life.

"Look. I can't say that there wasn't a girl or two who didn't catch my eye. And I can't say that I never thought of settling down and starting something up. But that ain't me." Eliot said softly. "What I do…it's who I am. Having a family would…if anything happened to them because of me….it would kill me."

"I'd bet you'd make a wonderful father though, Eliot." Sophie said, smiling softly.

"Yeah, maybe."

"You could teach them to ride horses." Parker spoke up. "And cook. And you'd cook for them like you do for us, too, everyday."

"You'd sing to them, I bet." Sophie said. "Every night and whenever they were feeling down or upset or sick….you'd always be there when it mattered."

"Scare off any dude that tried anything with your baby girl, or teach your boy to fend for himself when the bullies got bad." Hardison said. "Man, I bet you'd take them to the football games and teach them how to fight and lay it down."

"You wouldn't make your father's mistakes." Nate said, and that really hit home, so hard that Eliot actually took a step back away from them. How could they see this picture so clearly?

"Come on, Eliot?" Nate said. "You have to have thought about names at some point? The might - have - beens?"

"At first I always thought I'd have a darling girl named Amy." Eliot confessed after a long pause. "But she's a memory of a time when I was still….I wasn't happy with the me that I was back then. I haven't been happy in a long, long time. But…"

"But…?" Sophie prompted.

"I've thought about having a son…..naming him Christian Parker." Eliot glanced sideways at the thief, whose mouth hung open in pleased shock. "Or maybe Nathaniel Alexander. Or maybe Naomi Sophia. I've thought about naming my kids after my family, sure."

No one spoke, letting the implications resound with them and looking at their secret teddy bear of a hitter with newfound appreciation. How could he not get a life like that? Why couldn't they all just get their happy endings?

"The story isn't over yet." Nate said. "One day….I promise you all that."


	26. Dancing to You

**A/N: I'm tired. This is short. Oh well.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

 _"_ _One, two, three, one, two three, one -_ no, Parker, let Hardison lead."

"But he keeps trying to push me!"

"Believe me, if I was pushing you, you'd know."

"Doubt that. You've got the upper body strength of a tulip."

"Well this tulip could certainly take your punk ass, Mister Butch and Sundance."

"Oh, really? You wanna go? Cause we can go right -"

"Boys!" Sophie yelled, instantly ending the ridiculous argument before it could begin. Eliot and Hardison stopped glaring at each other and looked to whee Sophie stood by the window, her hands on her hips, and the extra six inches of stiletto heel making her look absolutely terrifying. Even Parker took a step back, nearly bumping into the already moody Eliot. Nate sighed and rolled his eyes, choosing to pour himself another drink instead of add himself to the volatile mix. "We are trying to work and - Nate, so help me if you touch that bottle, I will shove it right in your arse."

"Jesus, Sophie. Would you calm down a little?" Eliot winced at her snappish tone. Sophie, however, carried on undaunted, her movements agitated as she gestured wildly at the the three of them.

"No, I will not! Look, tonight is supposed to be the most extravagant event of the year. It's elegant and formal and there will be all sorts of important people there besides McMillan - "

"And you're upset because you can't go lay the charm on all the big bucks." Nate smirked at the pouting grifter, knowing he had hit the mark. Sophie had been ecstatic to find out that their latest mark, a slime ball by the name Carlton McMillan, was going to be attending the Hilton Hilltop Garden Affair, one of the most talked about parties of the year. There would be music, drinks, dancing, and it would be the perfect place to set the final phase of the first half of the con, which would be to string the mark along. the original plan was that Sophie would swoop in as the bait, leading Carlton along in a dance or two, seduce him, entice in, offer him just a little bit of the good stuff while the rest of them did recon and worked as back up through the event.

That was the original plan.

That was before Hardison had hacked into the servers of the Hilton's guest list and found out that several of the guests attending the party had previously made contact with Miss Sophie Deveraux…..or rather, Lilly Nimira…..or Cathy Laurens…or Jenna Roland…..or Helena Kalle. Long story short, many of those old acquaintances hand't been left of good terms so Sophie was out of the party. Which left Parker as their leading lady. Except -

"Parker, you have to let the male lead you. It's a waltz!"

"It's stupid." Parker groused. "I don't want to wear that silly dress. It squeezes me in places and I can't rappel in it."

"You're not going to be rappelling, Parker. You're the leading lady on this one. You have to dance with Carlton to be able to entice him into our little bid. Remember?"

"Forget it, Nate. Girl's got two left feet when it comes to dancing." Hardison said. "Maybe we ought to rethink this."

"No." Eliot spoke up, and while his voice was soft and without it's usual hostility, there was still an undercurrent of something in his tone that suggested it wasn't up for argument. "Look we don't have time to change the plan. The party is tonight, and Parker is our only shot into this. She can do it."

There was a moment of silence in which the hitter, mastermind, grifter, and hacker all shared a series of looks that passed unnoticed by their thief, who was fiddling with the cuffs if her jean jacket. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, Sophie threw her hands in the air, turning on one of her dangerously tall heels and stalked off into the kitchen.

"Fine. Ten minutes and then we'll try it from the top."

"Man, I got to go ice my feet then." Hardison mumbled, hobbling off to the bathroom. "I mean, damn, Parker, you got steel toed boots or what?"

"Or what." Parker sighed, not bothering to put a lot of spite into her words. Nate just huffed a bit of laughter before turning to follow after Sophie, leaving Eliot and Parker standing in the middle of the living room. A few more minutes passed in silence, Parker still picking at the cuff of her jacket, and Eliot staring at her thoughtfully.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" Parker said at last.

"Why do you keep pretending that you can't dance?"

There. He had finally said it. Parker let go of her jacket and moved away from Eliot and over to the window.

"I still don't see why i have to dance with him."

"Parker," Eliot sighed, moving slowly to stand beside her. "You know why Sophie can't go in. She'd be spotted almost certainly right away. I mean, I know Carlton is a scuzzbag, and if I had my way he wouldn't lay a single finger on you, but -"

"That's not what I meant." Parker turned to face Eliot, her eyes bright. "I don't see why I had to dance with _him."_

And Eliot got it. A small smile teased on his lips as he reached forward to brush the back of his hand across her cheek, letting his hand trail down her collarbone and rest on her wrist.

"I thought you said you didn't want them to know."

"I know…" Parker whined, stepping just a little bit closer to him. "But he steps on my feet and tries to push me around and I just feel awkward and bulky and - and I like dancing with _you."_

Eliot pulled Parker to him until their chests were just barely touching.

"I know, darling. I hated him having his hands on you. But we agreed we'd take it slow, and if we started dancing right there and then…." he trailed off, letting his tone imply everything and anything, and judging by the blush that suddenly flushed Parker's porcelain skin, his message had been well received.

"I can do the waltz." Parker whispered to him. "I can, I swear."

"I believe you."

"Dance with me?"

There. She had said it. Those three little words that could turn him from a merciless killer into a harmless circus bear - one that danced for the beautiful girl as she commanded. He would always do as she commanded. Slowly, Eliot guided her hands with his, placing them gently in their positions, and just as slowly, he began to step in time to an imaginary melody, not pulling her with him, but letting her flow after him.

"One, two three…." Eliot whispered to her as he spun her across the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You and me…." Parker murmured back at him.

Round and round they went, never noticing that the ten minutes were up, or that Sophie and Nate and Hardison had come to watch them. They were lost to a melody only the two of them could hear, and they kept dancing around the living room until the very last note.


	27. Crazy

**A/N: This next chapter is based of Anime Girl23 story "50 Sentences". She has given me permission to use the prompts from her story as inspiration for the chapters in this one.**

 **Please continue to review and I hope you guys enjoy this story. I don't own Leverage, remember!**

* * *

Parker was bored. Bored, bored, bored. She wasn't hungry (she had eaten the last of her cookie stash, and Eliot still hadn't gone to the store for more cereal), there was nothing to steal (the new Greek masters exhibit wasn't due at the local museum for another month, and everything else there was pathetic), and even rappelling was attracting her attention (it was raining hard, and while getting wet while being flung two hundred feet straight down the side of a building was her kind of night, the weather now was practically suicidal. Parker might be crazy, but she wasn't stupid). So yeah, she was bored. B-O-R-E-D.

And a bored Parker was a dangerous Parker.

At first she had tried bugging Hardison. He always had time for her. Except this time, apparently. He was four hours into a World of Warcraft binge with his geeky Internet friends and had little attention to spare for her and her many, many…..many questions.

Then she had gone to Sophie, except Sophie was four hours into a online shopping crawl. Her excuse was that she was running out of outfits to put together for all her aliases.

"It's not just me that needs the clothes, you see. It's every single one of the roles that I play. They all need to look their part exactly as I look mine."

Parker had left just as Sophie started in on belts.

Nate was her next stop, but Parker had left almost as soon as she had got there. He had ben four hours deep into a binge of his own, and he had been passed out on his couch, the bottles scattered all over the hardwood floor, his hand half heartedly reaching for the last drop of whiskey in the shot glass on the table.

So Parker was left with the one person she knew would not just dismiss her.

Eliot Spencer had actually been reading when Parker found him. Reading. For fun. But was even more surprising was that he actually put the book down when she came over and actually wanted to hang out with her. Parker had been so shell shocked, she had frozen where she stood. Eliot had to snap his fingers in front of her eyes a few times before she had been able to shake herself out of it.

"Parker. Parker. Are you alright?" he had asked, his blue eyes even more piercing than usual since his hair had been drawn back into a low ponytail.

"You - you said you….." Parker stuttered, unable to get the words out.

"I said I would hang out with you." Eliot said, still clearly confused on why she was making such a big deal about it. "What? Did you think I would say no?"

"Well, you were busy."

"I was reading. Scratch that, I was reading something I've read a dozen times. Besides, it wasn't that important. I can read it in my sleep. You said you wanted to do something, and I said yes. It's not that complicated. We're friends - we're part of a team. A family. We don't just hang out on the job. Ask the others."

"I did." Parker said. "They're busy."

And that was all she had to say. Eliot was smart. He didn't need her to explain. He just knew what it was she meant, and smiled at her. It was a tiny crooked smile, and secretly Parker felt a flutter in her chest. That was her favorite kind of smile of Eliot's, the one that made his eyes crinkle in the corners, and she could see the laugh lines and the lines of pain and sadness.

"Come on." Eliot said. "What do you want to do?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. See, Parker, when she was bored, she started thinking. And when Parker started thinking, it lead to some….interesting things. After Sophie and Hardison and Nate had all blown her off and she had gone to Eliot, she had started thinking of what she could possibly do with him. They weren't exactly into the same kinds of things, besides stealing stuff, and even then he called it "retrieval". She was into rappelling and explosives and she hated horses and she loved candy and cookies and cereal and shiny objects. Eliot….he loved horses and knives and hitting people and cooking exquisite food that wasn't cookies or candy or cereal. They had nothing in common. Except…maybe….

"Can we do each other's hair?"

The look of surprise on Eliot's face would have been hilarious if she hadn't been so afraid of what he would say. Eliot's hair was sacred. Parker had often found herself admiring the silky smoothness, the dark color, wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through his locks - wait. What? Parker flushed, both at her secret thoughts and the ridiculousness of her question. But she was surprised again. Eliot laughed, another beautiful sound, shaking his lustrous locks.

"Seriously?" he sighed. "Alright."

"Really?" she squealed. "Yes!"

"Not here." Eliot said, his stern voice breaking her excitement. "I know you, Parker, and whatever it is you have planned is not winding up on my floor so let's just….go back to the office. Nate, at least, will just think it's part of his drunken stupor."

Parker was to thrilled to finally be allowed to have access to Eliot Spencer's hair to care pretty much where they were. It was like having a girl's night….except neither she nor Eliot were much of a girl. She, at least, had all the right parts, but according to Sophie, she didn't use them in the right way. Parker shrugged to herself, ignoring the weird look Eliot shot her as they climbed into his Chevy truck and headed back into the city to the office. It was late - or actually, it was really early.

"It's three in the morning." Parker whispered.

"Yep."

"Why were you up reading at three in the morning."

"Ninety minutes, Parker."

"Oh." She had forgotten that Eliot had made a point at one time of telling them that he only sleeps ninety minutes a day. Parker wondered slightly what had happened to him to make him be like that, to make him constantly vigilant, never resting. But it was clearly a discussion for another day, so she put it in the back of her mind with all her other burning questions and observations and secrets that she kept….for now. Instead, she followed Eliot into his office in the back of the apartment, tiptoeing past Hardison's office (he was still playing that damn game) and Sophie's (she had fallen asleep on her couch, her computer open on an assortment of Verdi purses) and Nate was still dead to the world in the living room. When they reached Eliot's private space - which was the furthest down the hall away from all of them - he pushed her quickly inside and shut the door.

"Sit down." She sat facing the back of the room as he walked around to stand behind her.

"But…" Parker pouted, "I thought…."

"Yeah. You first."

And suddenly she felt Eliot's fingers pulling out the hair tie from her ponytail, letting the familiar pressure release and her soft blonde waves drop gracefully onto her shoulders. Parker was quiet, knowing that one wrong move and Eliot would call the whole thing off. She felt him tentatively separate the strands of hair on her head, one by one, agonizingly slowly, and then, all at once, his hands were running through her hair. Parker barely held back a moan. His hands were rough and calloused, and they massaged her head with a firm and gentle grip. They ran through her locks over and over again soothingly and Parker closed her eyes.

It seemed like an eternity - just the feeling of his fingers tangled in her hair, running through them, braiding it, massaging her scalp, sending her nerves into overdrive. All too soon, though, the magic fingers pulled away. There was a new, unfamiliar pressure on the top of her head, something soft. She could feel the softness of Eliot's hair brush against her face and feel his breath on the top of her head where the light pressure was. Then, that, too pulled away and he brushed his fingers against her collarbone.

"That's it, Parker. I'm done."

Parker yawned and stretched, then froze as she realized that her hair was no longer simply hung around her shoulders. Parker gasped and ran over to the door, looking for her reflection in the darkened glass. Somehow, she didn't know how, Eliot had braided her hair into an elaborate rose bun in the back of her head. Parker wasn't all into that girly stuff but this….she actually looked….

"Your turn." Parker whirled back around, cutting off her own thoughts. Eliot choked, his expression turning from one of calm and…something else into one of apprehension.

"Listen, Parker -"

"Nope." Parker said. "Wait right here. There's something I've been wanting to try."

"Jesus." Eliot mumbled but he sat down in his chair anyways as she ran back to her office. She slipped inside her office, aiming straight for the hidden box inside her desk. She had bought in in a moment of weakness, thinking that maybe if she had to be more girly, strictly for a job, then Sophie could help her change her image a little. So far, the box had remained untouched. Until now..

"Okay." Parker came back in, shaking the box tauntingly.

"HAIR DYE?" Eliot sputtered. "Uh-uh, Parker. I just braided your hair. There is no way I'm letting you -" he stopped, sighing. Parker had pulled out her patented puppy dog eyes and pouty lip.

"Pretty please?" she simpered.

"Hell." Eliot sighed. "Fine."

* * *

Harrison yawned as he finally set down his controller. Damn, that had been a long night. He twisted the kinks out of his neck and moved to stand, shuffling his way out of his office. He could hear Sophie and Nate talking in low voices in Sophie's office next door. The hacker yawned again and opened his door - then promptly shut it.

"What. In. The. Hell." he muttered, rubbing his eyes hard, not sure if what he saw was real or a figment of his twelve hour World of Warcraft binge. He peeled the door open again and shut it quickly. Nope. It was real. Holy fucking shit.

He eased his door open a third time just as a feral yowl echoed through the apartment, followed by a shrill cackle. He heard the door next to him open and immediately Hardison reeled around and grabbed both Nate and Sophie by the arm, dragging them back into the office.

"She's fucking crazy." Hardison whispered. A second later the three of them peeked out of the still open door, wondering at the sounds of complete fury.

A second later, Parker ran by, absolutely hysterical, her laughter pinging off the walls. Suddenly, there was the blur of silver as a knife shot by and lodged itself into the wall behind her head.

"Oh my God!" Sophie gasped.

"PARKER!" Eliot roared, and he stormed by, his neon pink hair shining painfully bright in the fluorescent lighting.

"Oh yeah." Nate muttered. "She is definitely….definitely crazy."


	28. The Butcher's Return

**A/N: Another chapter cause I'm on a role. This chapter is also an inspiration from Anime Girl23 story "50 Sentences". Also, there may contain spoilers from Season 1's "The Wedding Job". Just a heads up!**

 **Anyways, regular disclaimer that nothing is mine except some of the one shots in this drabble series. As mentioned, any lines from Anime Girl23 will be credited at the top of every chapter. Some are hers, and some are all mine. This one is inspired by her.**

 **Thanks, and please continue to review!**

* * *

"What the fuck."

"I know."

"No, what the _actual_ fuck!" Nate cursed under his breath, pacing back and forth in the small alley. "Hardison, give me something."

There was the sound of furious typing over the comms along with heavy breathing and the sound of something being slammed against a hard surface - repeatedly. Nate bit his tongue back from giving a snappish rebuttal. They were all on edge now, completely shaken up. Nate glanced at Sophie and Parker, frozen by his side, and both of whom were staring at him with wide, worried eyes that were just begging him to fix this.

"Hardison, anything?"

"Dammit, Nate, there are over two hundred people here. I have to try and isolate all these cameras we set up and see if facial rec. can pinpoint not only Eliot, but whoever it was that took him. Give me five minutes please!" Alec yelled, the tension and stress he was under coming through loud and clear over the communication device. Again, Nate bit back his retort.

"Okay. Five minutes." Nate said, sighing.

"Nate, you can't blame yourself." Sophie tried, but her words were pointless. He was already obsessing over where they might have gone wrong this time around.

It was just supposed to be a simple job. It was another wedding job (Sophie insisted) and the con had actually been running smoothly. Nate wasn't a minister this time, thank god, but instead had actually came as Sophie's plus one. Sophie had managed to grift her way into the wedding as the caterer. It was a smart play, seeing as no one really checks to see who actually works at the companies that supplied the food for the massive wedding, but of course the company would be invited in exchange for their services provided. Hardison was on the outside this time around, waiting in the latest Lucielle. Parker was blending in to the wedding party, and Eliot was supposed to be her date. They were supposed to be working a con against one of the guests, the brother of the bride. Well, not so much a con as a rescue mission, seeing as the dimwitted brother had somehow gotten mixed up with the wrong sort of people and now he owed them four hundred thousand dollars. The bride, who was actually their client in this round, had asked them to find out who her brother owed money to and fix this.

 _Nate, please….fix this._

The job had been going so well, so far. Maybe that had been the problem. It's not a Leverage case if something doesn't fuck up.

"Hardison, anything?" Nate said, and even he heard the slight tremor in his voice. This wasn't good.

"Not yet. I - I need more time!"

"Well, that's the one thing Eliot might not have." Nate said viciously through the comms. "Hurry the fuck up and find him. I don't care if it's just a picture of the back of his head from someone's cell phone camera. Just find him somewhere!"

"Nate…" Sophie tried again. "I know you're scared -"

"Scared?" Nate whirled on her. "Yeah, maybe I am. I know you are. I know Hardison is freaked. I know Parker is absolutely terrified and one wrong call away from losing her mind over this. So yes, maybe I am scared Sophie because _this doesn't happen._ Not to Eliot."

It was true, in a sick twisted sense. It was always everyone else who got caught and captured, who disappeared, who got into the sticky situations… and it was always Eliot who got them out of it. But now, when the tables were turned….what could they do?

"It's all my fault, isn't it?" Parker whimpered, and Nate felt some of his misplaced anger let go at the sight of her watery eyes. "If we hadn't split up -"

"Parker, you didn't split up. Eliot went to get you two drinks. You were playing the couple, remember?" Sophie hushed. "It's not your fault the mark decided to ask for a dance, and it's not your fault that we all got caught up in the con for a few minutes - "

"Or hours." Hardison chirped unhelpfully.

"- and we lost track of Eliot." Sophie finished. "But we must remember that he can take care of himself. It's Eliot! He's….he's Superman."

"Yeah." Parker sniffed. "But even Superman has a weakness. What if someone found Eliot's?"

Nate couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about the man he had come to consider a friend, perhaps a surrogate son, in any sort of harm. These few thieves had become his family in the years they've been together. A shot against one of them was a shot against all of them - and Nate really hated being shot at. He sighed again, this time letting all his anger go out with the relieving breath, and leaned against the alley wall. They were outside the building where the wedding reception was being held. The con was complete - except for the fact their hitter was missing. At first, the idea that maybe the mark had other people circulating the guests and one of them had nabbed Eliot, having figured out the job. But no one else was made, the brother's debts were "paid" and the goons who had been hassling him had been left unconscious in the back of a police car parked down the street as a gift for New York's finest. So they had concluded that this wasn't about the job. No, Eliot had disappeared after that was finished. They had still been communicating on the comms up until the last possible moment before the wedding started.

It was at the reception where they realized no one had seen Eliot in over three hours. There, they realized that he hadn't spoken through his comm in over four.

It had to be a personal vendetta, not that that eased Nate's mind any. Eliot had been at his job much longer than the rest of them, and his job wasn't exactly the most discrete. As they had learned the hard way, while they all had enemies in their line of work, Eliot's enemies tended to be a little more….terrifying. Not to mention international, and that meant hundreds of possibilities. No amount of aliases could change the impression Eliot's fist left in the side of your head.

"Uh, guys?" Hardison's voice broke through his horrific mindset and brought him back to the present. "I got something, but you ain't gonna like it."

"Just spit it out, Alec." Parker snapped.

"I'm driving up to meet y'all. You need to see what I see. Now."

Lucille the Van pulled up top speed around the corner of the building, the side door whipping open and letting the three thieves pile in before whipping itself closed again, the van taking off down the street, just barely pushing the speed limit to stay under the radar.

"Hardison?" Sophie asked. "What is it? Where are we going?"

"We're leaving. Heading back to Boston."

"What?" Parker yelled. "Now? Are you stupid? Eliot's here! We can't leave Eliot! Nate, we can't - you said -"

"Hardison, explain to me what's going on, right now." Nate used the best "Dad" voice he could muster, which wasn't as hard as he expected it to be. Figures. He was already practically a father to the three quirky younger thieves as it was.

The hacker sighed, and slowly, he began to pull the van off to the side of the road. He dragged the van to an empty stretch of dirt lane and slowly the loud rumble of the engine died and they were sitting in silence. Hardison still hadn't turned to face them.

"What's happened?"

Hardison continued to say nothing but instead he turned, his head hung low, and pressed a few buttons on the keyboard that was hooked into the side of his van. After a second, a video feed came on the computer screen right above it. Nate recognized the feed as the surveillance from the wedding. In fact, this was right outside the chapel where the wedding had taken place. For several minutes, there was nothing on the screen, just the empty frame of the front of the building. While they waited, Nate tried to remember what had been happening. Eliot had still been there. He wasn't very verbal on the best of days, but they had been reassured by the sight of him slipping between the aisles as they walked around the guests before the ceremony started. Nate had been with Sophie, Hardison had been parked around the corner in the van, and Parker was supposed to be with Eliot. Except…

"He said he had to step out just for a minute." Parker whispered. "He said weddings made him uncomfortable."

"What are you…?" Nate started to ask but his question was soon answered. There, on the screen, was Eliot Spencer, their missing hitter. He exited out the chapel, and he looked weary. He looked to be breathing hard and he shuffled his feet on the pavement for a few minutes before he distinctly sighed and turned to head back inside. Suddenly, however, he froze, looking off to his left.

"What is it? What does he see?" Sophie asked anxiously.

"Not what." Nate said. "Who."

They kept watching the screen, completely drawn into the mystery of what happened while they had been caught in a wedding, of all things. Eliot continued to stare at someone off the screen. Then, in the quickest of motions, Eliot glanced at the surveillance camera and nodded once, then flashed a three, a four, and a two with his fingers, before two men came running in view of the camera.

"Three - four - two." Parker said. "That's the code for -"

"Circle back." Hardison finished. "Boston."

Nate sighed and swore softly under his breath. It was Eliot's own personal form of communicating through the cameras when he knew at least one member of his team might be watching. He only used that if he couldn't risk speaking through the comms.

That is to say, he only used it when he wanted to keep them out of the darker moments from his past.

"Hardison, can we isolate who those men were?"

"I don't need to." Hardison said, and he turned back around, starting up the van and moving fluidly back onto the road. "The one on the left is Dimitri Kolohov, former Soviet spy, now a gunrunner for the top payer, who, as it so happens, is currently a major player in arms deals and money laundering over in Kiev."

"Kiev?" Nate said, and a uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. "You don't mean - "

"Eliot just has a knack for attracting the wackos, don't he?" Hardison snarled.

The rest of the drive back to Boston was spent in quiet. Each member of the Leverage team couldn't help thinking the worst case scenarios of what Eliot might be going through. Finally, a few hours later, they pulled into the parking garage across the street from McRory's Pub. One by one, they trudged up the stairs to the apartment. Nate opened the door.

And there was Eliot, collapsed on the hardwood floor in a pool of his own blood.

"ELIOT!" Parker and Sophie screamed in tandem before racing across the floor to reach him.

"Ah!" Eliot groaned. "Shut the hell up! I'm trying to focus."

"Hopefully on not bleeding to death." Nate said moving forward to get a better look. Eliot's face was bruised and there was a small gash near his hairline, but that was the least of Nate's worries. No, his main concern at the moment was with the large stab wound in Eliot's side that was profusely pumping out blood. "Jesus Christ!"

"Yeah, yeah." Eliot snarled weakly. "It looks worse than it actually is. Could you do me a solid and help me with the stitching? My hand keeps shaking and I can't see the damn needle through all the black spots."

Nate grabbed the antiseptic and pressed it against the knee wound, hardly noticing Eliot's wince. This was unbelievable. He had lost a member of his team and gotten him back in a day without lifting a finger. It was a miracle. What would this team be without Eliot? He was the one who always had their back. He was their safety net, their protector. If he was gone, their team would be gone. It was a humbling moment. But at the same time…..he couldn't resist.

"Fuck, Eliot." Nate shook his head. "Is the Butcher of Kiev going to show up at every wedding we do?"

A huff of laughter from the wounded man on the floor, followed by the slow snickers and chuckles and then all out laughter of the horrible hilarity of what happened assured each and every one of them that everything was going to be alright.

It always was.


	29. Bubbles

**A/N: I'm in the mood for some Parker/Eliot fluffiness. So, courtesy of inspiration by Anime Girl23 story "50 Sentences", I bring to you all another chapter of my Leverage obsession.**

 **This is a very short chapter! I promise other chapters will be lengthier!**

 **Please continue to review!**

* * *

The world was broken. That was just a fact that Eliot had come to live with. The world was broken, fucked up, and so were the people that lived in it. He certainly was scarred beyond any recognition of the sweet little boy his mother remembered. No, that innocent soul had been long dead and buried, replaced by a violent killing machine. A monster.

So yeah, he knew the world was broken. It was a fucked up place with equally fucked up people. Sure, there were the sorry fools who lived day to day in oblivious bubbles with how things should be and they were the ones who saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Not Eliot. No, Eliot saw the world the way it was - bloody. He knew that the light people saw at the end of that tunnel was hellfire, not halos. For someone like him, especially.

These were the things Eliot Spencer thought about while he was washing dishes.

Actually, these dark thoughts were always running through his mind. People tended to underestimate him, thinking he was all brawn and no brains. In reality, Eliot had so much on his mind, it only ever came out in bursts of anger and aggression. Truthfully, sometimes he scared himself and he had been struggling with a cycle of self-loathing and depression for years because of this. But just as cooking allowed him to express himself, just as beating up corrupt bastards or sparring in a gym allowed him to release his aggression, Eliot had discovered that washing dishes was a way to soothe his monstrous soul, letting him think without getting too deep.

So even when the team tried to insist helping him clean up after he had cooked them a meal, Eliot always denied any of their help, growling something or other about them ruining his system or Hardison or Parker breaking something. All he really wanted was some time alone with a bottle of soap, a sponge, and the hot water on his hands as he thought.

Something changed, however, and Eliot was surprised that he actually never saw it coming.

It started small. Parker would be the last to leave the table, eating very, very slowly until Eliot had cleared everything except her dishes, which she would bring in separately. After a few days of her doing this, and Eliot was just getting used to this being another one of her quirks, Parker started to linger. She would sit at the counter behind him and watch him, the whole time, not saying a single word. Eventually, Eliot took it as it was and it became part of the routine for her to just it there in the silence. And out of the blue, Eliot found that it relaxed him more just to know that she was there. He told himself it was his natural protective instincts, and she was just - Parker.

And then she changed again.

Parker simply stood up from where she had been sitting and in one quiet motion, she had snuck up behind him, snatched the sponge from his hand and the plate he had been reaching for and started to clean the dishes with him. There was not a word spoken between them.

And Eliot noticed something else. Since Parker had started her weird obsession with him and the dishes, he had started thinking less and less of his usual dark and brooding thoughts and more on how the sun through the window reflected through her hair, turning the blonde to a white gold. Or how there were times when he would glance over at her from the corner of his eye to see that she was doing the same to him, and then they'd both look away, trying not to blush. Or how she would always squeal when a bubble of soap splashed at her from the sink. Or how, despite her being as broken and ultimately fucked up as he was, she still seemed to retain so much innocence that Eliot couldn't help but love her.

The world was broken. Yeah, that wasn't going to change. But not everything was broken along with it. Some people…some people weren't as broken as they appeared to be. Sometimes they were beautiful, and they didn't even know it.

And Eliot smiled despite himself - a real, true smile - as these peaceful thoughts. He figured, he didn't always have to brood on the bloody and the dark and the monstrous. In fact, he was really starting to love watching Parker squeal and duck away from the bubbles he now deliberately sent in her direction as they washed the dishes.

Together.


	30. Sins of the Fathers

**A/N: You guys absolutely rock. All the kind reviews literally make my day. I promise that I read every single one, so if your wondering if I ever read your comment, the answer is yes!**

 **Anyways, back to some of my original drabbles. The last chapter was really sweet and fluffy and it made my heart melt to write it. But I must get back to some of my more angsty pieces. :)**

 **Spoiler: This takes place right after The Three Card Monte Job in Season 3.**

 **As a general disclaimer, please remember that I do not own Leverage.**

 **The show also gets taken off Netflix in a week and I am scrambling to get my fix in before then. Who else is binge watching?**

 **Comment your favorite episode along with your favorite chapter so far! I'll give shoutouts next chapter.**

 **Please review and enjoy!**

* * *

They were walking back to the docks when someone finally broached the question to Nate.

"Why did you decide to go into insurance?" Parker said. "If your father was a thief?"

Nate sighed. His father, Jimmy Ford, had just left Boston behind on a freighter ship headed….well, in the end, all that mattered was that it was leaving Boston and would not be returning. The same could be said for his father. Jimmy Ford had made one hell of a mess of Nate's home, both in the past and in the present, and this time he swore that it would be different. He made sure that it was different. All that he asked for in return was a little trust in what he was doing.

He knew it wasn't going to last long. The band of thieves was always too inquisitive for their own good, and the questions were bound to start pouring in.

"I went into insurance because my father is a thief." Nate explained. He didn't look behind him, didn't look to his sides, didn't look anywhere except at the distant horizon in front of him as they walked down the waterfront. There was a lot he could say next - but where was the fun in being completely honest with a group of con artists?

"Oh, come on, Nate." Sophie sighed, slipping her arm through his, giving his side the pressure of added warmth and Nate suddenly lost a bit of his train of thought. That always happened with Sophie. One simple little gesture, a single word, and he was lost in everything that was Sophie Devereaux. And he knew that she knew that, and he knew that she knew that he knew she knew that. He sighed, knowing that in one way or another, he would have to answer.

"Okay. Okay." Nate conceded. "Look, even as a kid, I saw the kind of man my father was. I saw how he treated people, scared people…I saw who he took on and what that did to my mother…" Nate broke off there. He stopped walking, halting Sophie with him. One by one, Parker, Eliot, and Hardison came around to face him. Nate thought he had gotten pretty good figuring out his team, what they were thinking…but he couldn't read the expressions on their faces. So he continued, knowing that perhaps if he told them his story, they would share theirs.

"My father was a thief. He is a thief. He's a fixer, a con man, and above all, he was never a family man. My parents never had a happy marriage, and over time, I came to realize that my mother only stayed with the great Jimmy Ford because she was scared of him. Scared of what he could do to her - to me - if she dropped his sorry ass. So when I was old enough to push him away, I made the decision to turn his "lessons" around on him. I wanted to chase him, and people like him, to prove that the sins of the father don't reflect the son." Nate laughed. "And look at me now."

"Sins of the fathers…" Hardison muttered before laughing right along side Nate. "Man, I get it. You know, I basically grew up with my Nana. Don't have a lot of memories of my folks before I was assigned to her home with some other kids from the system. But I was told things."

"What kind of things?" Sophie asked.

"My mother had died in childbirth, and I guess I was left in the care of my father from the day I was born." Hardison shrugged, and Nate started to decipher the look on his face. It was indifference, but there was also a lot of hurt being masked there. "Guess the guy wasn't made out to be "World's Greatest Dad" cause by the time Social Services picked me out of there, apparently, he had been using me as an ashtray."

"What?" Sophie gasped.

"What the hell do you mean he was using you as an ashtray?" Eliot snarled, and Nate could see his protective instincts kicking in at someone hurting this little family they had made.

"I mean exactly what I said." Hardison said. "He was a smoker, and a thug. The stereotype of an aggressive, drunken, asshole father who wasn't cut out to be a dad ion the first place but slipped up somewhere along the line. I didn't know this for a long time. Nah, I was just this kid who didn't have a mom or a dad - just a group home and it pissed me the hell off for a long time. I raised all kinds of hell for my Nana until I was thirteen. Didn't know that I was starting to be the spitting image of the man. See, I looked him up around that time. Saw what he had done. Saw where he was. Saw that I was on my way to ending up just like him, and it wasn't fair. I was dealt a shitty hand right from the start, but that didn't mean I had to play those cards, ya know?"

"What did you do?" Parker asked quietly.

"It was my Nana. She was the one who dressed me up, taught me how to talk to people, taught me to harness my violin skills, bought me my first computer and my first game. She helped me find out how I was, and I spent the rest of my time there making it up to her. I still do."

"So, you saw that since your father was a mess, you didn't have to be?" Parker said, cocking her head to the side like an intrigued puppy.

"Well, kinda." The hacker shrugged again, and Nate saw that he was more relaxed now at having gotten that off his chest. "I mean, look at me now. Pretty sure me and my old man could both be described as criminals. But see, where he screwed up, I fixed my mistakes. What I do - what we do - it's good. It's helping good people. I'm doing good."

"The sins of the father shall not be reflected on the sons or daughters." Sophie mused again. "My father….well, I suppose it wasn't all his fault." She paused, and it took a nudge from Nate to get her to keep going. "He forgot me. I mean, with his second wife, he sort of forgot that I was a part of the picture at all, you see. And she…she wasn't fond of children. I was nine, at the time, and I took to spending more time out of home so I wouldn't be in the way."

"They neglected you." Nate said.

"I wouldn't call it neglect." Sophie corrected. "It was an early lesson that I wasn't going to get anyone's attention just being little old me. I had to invent new ways to gain access to what I wanted. Sometimes it was things, sometimes it was attention. I love the attention." She paused again, but Nate could tell it was because she was thinking back on who she had been. After a moment, she looked up at them again. "My father is the reason I'm a grifter. I never got what I wanted from him, which was half the time he spent with Mommy Number Two. I told myself that I would never brush someone off like that…I told myself I would never commit myself to someone so that I would never have to."

"And look where you are now." Eliot said softly, and they all smiled. Huh.

"My dad made my mom cry. A lot." Parker said quickly. "He took Bunny all the time when I was bad, and when I took her back, and if he caught me, he'd yell some more and tell me to be a better thief. He told me getting caught would only get me punished. So I decided to never get caught."

No one knew quite how to respond to that. They all knew Parker had had a rougher childhood than any of them. Sure, none of their pasts were perfect, but Parker's had always seemed remarkably sadder and lonelier in comparison so almost all of theirs, with the exception of Eliot.

"Nobody's perfect, though." Nate said offhandedly after a minute of awkward silence.

"But I am." Parker said defiantly. "Or I have to be. I have to be perfect. The best thief. And I am. I don't get caught, I'm in and out, and nobody knows any wiser. It's why I work alone-" and she stopped. She had found her flaw. Nate smiled.

"Parker, getting caught does not mean you're not the best. We know you're the best. People like Sterling or security systems like the Steranko are put there to remind you that you can beat them. But you are also the best because you have people who trust you and who you trust to back you up. And to save you when you do get caught."

"I'm used to work alone." Parker said. "And look at me now."

They knew what they were waiting for now, but Nate wasn't entirely sure if Eliot was going to be willing to share. His past was dark and shrouded in mystery and a whole lot of blood. Nate knew what Eliot was ultimately capable of. He wasn't so sure about the others.

"My old man and me never saw eye to eye. Not once." Eliot spoke slowly, as if he was weighing every single word he said. "My brother and sisters, he could handle. He beat my mama to keep her under his thumb. I was the only one who gave him any trouble, and he made my life a living hell. He did everything he could to keep me pinned in that little town…" Eliot trailed off, and Nate knew there was a whole lot more to the story that he was holding back. "His trying to keep me there drove me away - as far away as I could get. Him beating on me, on my mama, on my sisters and brothers, drove me to fight back - to take the punishment. And I knew that I would do anything -" he stopped.

"You would do anything." Nate said simply. "Your whole life is explosive, and you decided to try and turn that into your advantage."

"Yeah." Eliot looked at Nate oddly. "I don't know if my father's sins carried over to me or not, but I know I would not be who I am now if - well," he cleared his throat. "Look at me now."

Nate looked. He looked at all of them. Who'd have thought, with all they had been though, they'd end up here, almost exactly opposite of where they had started out. In some ways, they had inherited all the sins of their parents, but….they were better. They were good. And that's what mattered, right? That they were doing good.

Nate smiled to himself and, without another word, he kept walking past his crew and down the boardwalk, knowing that they would follow.

They would follow.


	31. Bad Days Happen

**A/N: I'm back! Guys, they took Leverage off of Netflix before I could watch the last season! How dare they! I am very upset but I am going to do the best I can to pay homage to the best television show I have ever seen with my silly, fluffy one shots.**

 **Please continue to review! It means so much to me when you guys tell me what you think of each chapter and you are all so sweet and I just love you guys.**

 **WARNING: this chapter talks about the death of a child, and can be considered dark. I might be overreacting but better to be safe than sorry. Nothing explicit, but enough for you to get the picture.**

 **Thanks.**

* * *

It had been a rough couple of days, and as the Leverage team filed back into office, they each turned away and slowly headed to their offices, closing the doors softly behind them, all the while, not saying one single word.

What could they even say? Nothing would make it better.

Nothing would bring that little girl back.

Nate stared into his glass, swirling the strong bourbon around and around, watching the dark liquid ripple and splash against the sides. He raised it to his lips, and paused. Nate pulled it back slowly, and in a flash, the glass had left his hand and he stared at the opposite wall where bits of broken glass and and a dark stain was now decorating the light wood. He knew he should clean it up - or at the very least, sweep up the shards of glass before someone stepped on them - but instead he simply opened the cabinet behind him and pulled out another glass, this time filling it to the brim with a new bottle of fire whiskey and downing it all in one shot. He laid the glass on the counter, and slowly, feeling as though each leg had suddenly turned to lead, he trudged over to the stairs and made his way up to his bedroom.

He needed sleep - even though the images would never leave his mind- and he wanted to dream - even though nightmares were all that were assured of him tonight.

Nate trudged upstairs, biting his lip to keep from screaming. It was his fault, wasn't it? That she was dead? If he had only seen it coming, if he had caught onto the plan just an hour sooner, she would be alive right now. It was his job to be two, five, ten steps ahead of the game…..and he had failed today. He had failed in the worst way possible.

* * *

Sophie sat in her chair in her office, staring at the closed door. She knew Nate would be drinking. She knew he would be angry. She barely flinched when the glass shattered the wall, knowing he was feeling guilty. Of course he would. They all would take the blame for this one. Except it really was all Sophie's fault.

Sophie picked up a small piece of fabric from her desk. It was a patch from a child's Girl Scout uniform - Business Accomplishment Badge, it read. Sophie fingered the woven material, feeling the hard edges, the clumps of dirt and the sticky patches were she hadn't been able to wash all the blood away.

She was the grifter. That was her thing. There was no one better. So how….how had she slipped up? How had she failed so miserably that the mark had been able to see right through her? One little split of the tongue - a rookie mistake - and it had all blown up in her face. She had failed.

It was her job to make sure there were no doubts about the con, about the story, to ease the mark away from the ledge just enough for her to take the clothes off his back before she let him jump. She failed. Nancy Mulligan was dead because she had failed.

Sophie laid the Girl Scout badge into her palm and closed her hand into a fist, squeezing it tighter and tighter until her perfectly manicured nails were digging painfully into her own skin, and she knew her own blood would now add to the little girl's that stained the small patch of childhood in her hand.

Sophie let a tear slide down her cheek.

* * *

Hardison had his volume up way too loud in his headphones. His brain was just overloaded with the sounds of orcs screaming, blades clashing against each other, war horns blaring, explosions and roars and his teammates online yelling directions and cheers of victory and so much chatter that Hardison was over stimulated. He felt as if he had drank too much orange soda - as if he was Parker at the chocolate convention.

Completely wired.

It was what his body needed. It was what his mind craved. He had to be so overloaded with information that his mind wouldn't stop and think for even a second because if he stopped to think for even a second, all he would see -

He ripped his headphones off his head and threw them heatedly at the screen, slamming his controller down and exiting from the game before his team could even ask a damn question. He was suddenly breathing very hard. So why did he feel like he couldn't breathe?

Alec Hardison considered himself the best. Despite what his rival Chaos might snark around the deep web, Hardison was the best. He could hack any number of advanced firewalls, bypass systems, control anything anywhere - he could harness the world's information in less than ten hours. He was that good. There was nothing that could get by him, no mistake he could make. Alec Hardison didn't screw up.

So how did he miss this? How did he miss the ringing alarms, the red flags, the warning signs that things were about to go horribly wrong? He had been trying to grift and hack at the same time, and usually, he was the master of multitasking. But this time….why hadn't his focus been there? Why had he let it slip, for just a second, just to keep his cover only to let Sophie's be blown?

Hardison paced around his his small office space before jumping back down into his chair and revving up his laptop, jamming his headphones back on his head. He couldn't do a lot now - he couldn't give solace to Nancy Mulligan's family, he couldn't erase the image of a bullet tearing through a seven year old girl from his mind, he couldn't give his team back the extra hour they needed to save her - but he could help this team, these online warriors who need him now.

He failed once. He would not fail again today.

* * *

Parker slept. When she woke up, she took another Xanax and slept some more. She didn't want to remember, to dream, to think, about Nancy, about that scared little girl tied up in that warehouse waiting to be rescued, about the gun that had been aimed at her head, the gun that had been fired, the bullet that killed her, and Parker had been _six feet away._

Six feet. She had her arms out to grab her, to sweep her away and complete yet another flawless theft. But it had all gone wrong. And she had been six feet away when that little girl had died.

Parker knew she was the world's best thief. But this last job had her absolutely shook. She had been so close - if that had been any other job, with anything else, she would have made it, and they wouldn't all be crying to themselves now. No, they would be in the bar celebrating the fact they had helped more people who couldn't help themselves, and she and Eliot would be poking fun at Hardison and Nate and Sophie would be together. They wouldn't be like this - alone and sad and not together.

Parker didn't like when they weren't together.

So she slept, losing herself to a dreamless nothingness until the morning.

* * *

Eliot sat in his office silently thinking of the day. It had been awful, and he had seen some horrible things in his long, violent life. That little girl had been scared and alone. Eliot had looked at her and he had seen someone who needed to be protected from all the evils in the world, and there she was, thrown into the worst of them. Nancy had looked to him, right there, in the split second before Hellbrook had shot her, and he had almost gone down against the guy he had been fighting as her eyes locked onto his.

Fear. She had been absolutely terrified, at seven years old. Hope. She knew he could save her, protect her, stop the bad guys from hurting her, and she had looked to him, pleading with her eyes since her mouth had been ducked tape shut -

Eliot was haunted by a lot of memories. There was a lot of blood on his hands. But the eyes of little Nancy Mulligan…..he would never be rid of those.

Eliot knew that this job was hitting the rest of the team very hard. Unlike him, they had never really been close to death, never seen it as a part of their job before now. He had. Killing and violence had always been ingrained in his nature. While they made for some horrific nightmares, Eliot had gotten used to the fact that his life was war. Bad days would happen, right along side those not so bad days. Nothing was ever good, just different shades of pain.

Eventually, he would be the first to leave his brooding solitude. He would go into the kitchen and be in his element. Maggie once told him that people underestimated him, and that was always the point. He pretended to be technologically inept half of the time, he played the part of the rough, Neathdrethal country cowboy. But he knows everything.

He knows that making a huge bowl of assorted cereal with chocolate milk will make Parker cheer up.

He knows that water, Advil, and a steak and cheese omelet with spinach and bacon will be Nate's startup cure.

He knows Sophie would want pancakes with strawberries, blueberries, peaches, and organic whipped cream and maple syrup and a tall mimosa.

He knows Hardison would like scrambled eggs with hash browns, waffles with butter cream, bacon, and a blueberry muffin on the side.

And he would make all of that, for all of them, because yeah, bad days did happen. And they would continue to happen. But Eliot promised that he would always be there to make sure that something good might find it's way to them, too.


	32. A Little Bit of Randomness

**A/N: Feel free to request things in the comments below guys. I will take all suggestions, seeing as I'm coming up on severe writer's block. So if you have an idea, or a wish, for a one shot, tell me and I will give you a shout out and the story you requested!**

 **Anyways, general disclaimer that I do not own Leverage. This chapter also takes place after Season 4, Episode 16 "The Gold Job". Eliot and Parker are a couple in this chapter, so anything Parker/Hardison related in the show does not exist here. Sorry!**

 **Inspiration comes from Anime Girl23 and her story "50 Sentences". This is kind of weird but I hope you all like it anyways.**

 **Please continue to review and enjoy!**

* * *

Eliot had had it up to _here_ with Hardison. What, the hacker was sulky because Daddy Nate said no? Then, like a child, he didn't bother to tell them that they wasted precious time breaking into a vault that was already empty? Eliot snarled to himself and the pencil he had in his hand snapped. Parker, who was leaning against him comfortably, turned to him and gently kissed his cheek. Eliot could feel some of his anger dissipating, and he let a small crooked smile loose, knowing that she liked it when he smiled like that.

"Hardison?" Parker said, in her way of checking in to see if she could guess what was on his mind. Eliot let his smile grow just a little bit. This girl, who was completely inept for every other social cue on the planet, somehow was able to read him like a book.

"Yeah. Hardison." Eliot sighed. "I mean, where does he get off, being that pompous - and his smarmy little grin - and not telling us about the empty vault was just a dick move, and-"

Parker soothed him with another kiss on his cheek and running her hands through his hair. She had changed remarkably since they started dating a year and a half ago. Things had ended pretty quickly between Parker and Hardison, for reasons that only the two of them would ever know. Somehow or other, though, Eliot had found himself spending more time with Parker afterwards, comforting her or distracting her under the pretense of trying to harness her seemingly endless energy. In reality, he couldn't bear to see her sad, so he made sure that she never had the chance to. And little by little, Eliot had found that he was spending time with her because it was fun. Because he was happy when he was with her. And he soon found out that she felt the same for him.

Since then, they had more or less become an item, and they had both surprisingly changed. Parker, while still the same twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag he had first met, had calmed down in such a way that she was a surprisingly comforting presence for him when he was having one of his rougher days. She could be gentle, and thoughtful, and sweet, and everything he needed her to be.

And Eliot, he had found himself relaxing more and more, laughing easier and being more open. He even agreed to rappel once or twice with Parker in lieu of dates. It was as if he was becoming the kind of man he might have been had his life been kinder or easier.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Hm?"

"Well, you're pissed at Hardison, right?" Parker asked. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Eliot frowned. How was he going to get back at the hacker for being such a pompous idiot? he had many ideas, but most of them were much to violent than what this situation called for. So what could he…..Eliot looked at Parker and smiled again, but this time, it held a different meaning. Parker stared back at him, and the same smile appeared on her face, though somehow, Eliot thought she made it seem more wicked.

"I'm going to go take a bath." she whispered in his ear, and Eliot barely held back a growl at the effect those words had on him. But for him, it would have to be later. He knew that she knew….and that she was alright with carrying out their little plan. Parker giggled and kissed him, this time on the lips, and skipped off upstairs to Nate's shower.

* * *

A few hours later, Hardison came back. Sophie and Nate were off laying the groundwork for a new, long game con, and Hardison had been doing surveillance on the neighborhood they were infiltrating for the last twenty hours. Eliot wrinkled his nose as the younger man walked through the apartment - he smelled of sweat and leather and B.O. Eliot could even pick out the stale onion rings and orange soda he must have had. It was disgusting and he knew the van must smell even worse.

It was perfect.

"Hey, man. Listen I - Dammit Hardison!" Eliot yelled. "You reek! What were you doing, playing hide n seek in a dumpster all day?"

"You know what, next time, you go sit in Lucille for twenty hours and see how you smell." Alec Hardison snapped back. "Alright, I had a lot of work to do to set up that house for Nate and Sophie, plus run initial background of all the neighbors in case something comes up until we can get back there on Friday."

"Yeah, but seriously, man -"

"No, not "but seriously." I am done with you today, okay?" Hardison waved his hand and started to make his way upstairs. Eliot followed, grinning and also wondering if he was crossing a line by doing this.

"Hardison, I've got to tell you something."

"Save it! I don't want to hear any of your comments, your digs, insults, constructive criticisms, always dragging me down. I am not in the mood for Eliot right now, and as you so happen to be that, please leave my fine ass alone!"

"Would you just wait and listen -"

"No, look man. I am tired, I am sad, I am very, very smelly from sitting in a hot van all day with nothing but electronics and soda and onions - oh Lord, why did I have to have onions?"

They were at the bathroom door now.

"Look, Hardison." Eliot tried again.

"Uh -huh. Listen, country boy, I am not in the mood for you. So go hop along and beat some leather or something, clean the knives or read some Japanese or whatever it is you do in your free time, and leave me alone."

Eliot barely held back a glare, and instead conceded. He suddenly felt no remorse for what was about to happen.

"Alright. Sorry man."

Hardison turned with a satisfied huff and and opened the bathroom door.

"ALEC, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"OH MY GO- I'M SORRY! AH!"

Eliot burst out laughing as Hardison screamed like a girl and ran for cover out of the bathroom as Parker, towel clad and furious, chased him from the room. As the hacker tripped over himself and went tumbling down the stairs, Eliot wrapped a protective arm around his thief's bare skin and yelled out to him.

"Hey, I tried to tell you!"


	33. Nightmares in the Dark

**A/N: Hey! Thanks guys for the reviews! Yeah, the last chapter was kind of odd, so sorry about that. Not every idea is a hit, but I do my best. But now we can get back to what I love - angst. And, this chapter is by request!**

 _ileatrekkie: Since you're asking for requests, and since I like the way you write angst, how about a lengthy one shot on Parker helping him through a nightmare, or severe injury, or, ooh, how about she actually protects him for a change (and lives through it, cos that's important)._

 **So, here it is! I really hope you like it!**

 **Please continue to review!**

* * *

 _He was trapped. There was nothing but the smell of his own fear, the salty taste of his own sweat and the coppery tang of his own blood that was in his mouth and in his eyes and slipping through his fingers and he pressed harder against the wound. His breath came in gasps and he could literally feel his heart pounding as he struggled to live._

 _Shakily, he felt around him, hoping to find anything that would help him. He reached out, but once again the chain around his wrist came up short and he winced as his bruised wrist scraped against the rusty metal. He groaned and coughed, feeling the spatter of blood fly like spittle from his lips and spatter the cold concrete walls._

 _He was hyperventilating. He couldn't seem to focus, and that was bad. This was supposed to be no problem for him - he was the best. He was the very best. He had been in a dozen situations worse than this, so why was he being beaten this time?_

 _He was also cold - why was he so cold? But he couldn't tell if he was shivering._

 _"_ _Someone…" he whispered, his lips wet with his own blood. "Can anyone hear me?"_

 _His voice was weak, yet it echoed horribly in the space he was in. It bounced back again and again, until it was booming thunder in his ears. The sound crawled over him and his skin tingled where it touched. Suddenly, the tingling turned into a prickling sensation, and then the prickling became stinging. The stinging became worse until it felt as though his whole body was being set on fire._

 _"_ _Somebody…" he begged, and tears rolled down his cheeks, mingling with the salt of his sweat and the bitterness of his blood. "Somebody, please….PLEASE!"_

* * *

"Eliot. Eliot, wake up. ELIOT!"

Eliot jolted straight up out of bed, breathing hard. For a second, he was frozen in place. Then, he sensed movement beside him, and he went from Eliot Spencer to a carnal beast, his instincts taking over and pushing him to survive. Somehow, he had healed, the chain was gone, and he could breathe again, and he would take his chance to escape and kill that bastard. His vision tunneled and in a flash, he was out of bed, grabbing the knife he had stashed under his pillow in one swift movement and swerving to wild it against his attacker.

He was expecting a tall, broad shouldered man with burning red eyes, scars across his face, a thick black beard, and a slightly visible tattoo on his neck which Eliot knew to be the image of a burning flag. He was expecting anger, violence, a counterattack of some sort.

Instead he saw a woman, her blonde hair askew on one side from sleep, a sheet wrapped firmly around her chest and one hand reaching out calmly to steady him, as if he was a skittish horse.

"Eliot." she said softly, and he focused his attention on her lips, soft and pink. "Eliot, it's me. It's your Parker. Eliot. Listen to my voice. You're safe. You're safe. It's going to be alright."

Eliot griped his blade harder, not realizing that his hand had slipped and he was no longer clutching the handle but the actual edge. Blood welled on his palm and dripped through his fingers. There was a flash before his eyes and the image of that dark space, the coldness, the coppery tang of his own blood all over his body, hit him full force and his knees began to shake.

"Eliot?"

"P-P-Parker." Eliot stuttered, and if he had been in his right mind, he might have cursed at how weak and pathetic he sounded. But right then, all he thought about was not throwing up and - God, was he shaking? He wanted to stop the shaking.

He heard movement again, but his instincts had faded back into the cage he kept inside himself, and the rest of the world was beginning to resurface. He kept his head bowed, letting his hair, damp with sweat, hang in his face. Eliot listened to the bed creak as Parker stood, listened to the soft padded shuffle as she tiptoed across the floor to where he was, and the rustle of the sheet she held to her body as she knelt beside him. Slowly, he sensed her arm reaching out again and she tucked the hair from his face behind his ear, letting her cool fingers trail down his cheek.

"Want to talk about it?" Parker offered. She was being gentle, treating him like a kid. She was like this every time it happened, but usually a quick kiss or having her cuddle closer into his embrace chased those demons away, at least for the ninety minutes or so he needed. But this time it was worse. This time, he had had no warning.

"I - " Eliot started and coughed. His throat had gone dry and talking was like rubbing sandpaper. "I'm not sure I know…what happened."

"It was a nightmare." Parker whispered. Gently, she reached for his hand, the one that was still holding onto the knife, and took it in her own hands. Without forcing him, she managed to pry the blade from his palm and then wrapped the sheet around the bleeding cut. "You started off just whimpering, and you were shaking as if you were freezing. So I tried to cuddle, like we usually do when nights get bad, but you were so tense, and when I touched you, you seemed to be in pain, so I just watched. But then you started screaming and thrashing and I was scared, Eliot, so I started calling your name over and over and I was about to grab you cause I thought you might hurt yourself when you woke up and -"

"Parker, I could have killed you." Eliot bit out. Tears were welling up in his eyes again and he looked at his girlfriend with a pained look. "I was prepared to take him on, and if I hadn't stopped - if I hadn't paused, I would have …..would have…."

"Who, Eliot?" Parker leaned in and grabbed his shoulders. "Who is "him"? What was that?"

"Parker…I can't -"

"Do not pull that bullshit with me, Eliot Spencer." Parker said firmly. "We have been together far too long for you to even try and pull that protective crap with me. I get it when we're on the job and you get to play the martyr and stick your neck out, and while I don't like it, I get it. But this…this happens in your head. It happens here, when we are together and it is just the two of us, and this is where you and I share equal footing. Okay? This is where I can protect you as much as you protect me, and that includes nightmares. So spill. If not now, then later. But you have to be honest with me."

Eliot didn't move. Yes, he and Parker had been together for some time now. Coming up on a year and a half, he thought. And they had been teammates for four years before that. So with all that time and history on their side, one would think that they would be at a point of total honesty and trust between them. But where was honesty when you were a thief? There was still so much that Eliot was afraid (though he would never outwardly admit to fear, despite what his team already knew) to share. And this….this had been a dark memory. What if he told her, and she ran from him? What if in being honest, he lost the most important thing in his life?

"That's not going to happen, baby." Parker stroked his cheek again, and Eliot blinked as he realized that he had spoken aloud by accident.

"Huh?"

"Just…start slow." Parker asked. "You don't have to tell me everything, just enough to let me help you. I want to help you, Eliot. Please."

Eliot sighed and looked, really looked, at this beautiful woman before him. He remembered the first time he had realized he had fallen in love with Parker. It hadn't been on a job, or when the team had been hanging out. It had been just the two of them. He had been cooking in the kitchen, something special in celebration of another success, and Parker had wandered in. Normally, Eliot was aware of his surroundings at all times and as such, was unable to be surprised, startled, or snuck up on. But when he was cooking, he was in a whole other world, and he was able to lower this guard he had up 24/7 and just _be._ So it was slightly embarrassing that when he turned around and saw Parker, he may or may not have jumped and spilled boiling water on his bare arms.

* * *

 _"_ _Oh God, Eliot! Are you alright?" Parker yelped as she rushed to him._

 _"_ _Yeah - ah." Eliot winced as his skin started to burn and blister. "I'm fine, Parker just - don't sneak up on me like that."_

 _"_ _I'm sorry." Parker whimpered. "I just wanted to watch you cook and now - oh, I can fix it."_

 _"_ _Parker, what are you -"_

 _Eliot froze as Parker leaned over and gingerly pressed a kiss to one of the forming blisters. When she stood up again, she was closer to him and there was something in her eyes…._

 _"_ _There. All better."_

* * *

"Parker…." Eliot sighed.

"Eliot." Parker stood firm and Eliot sighed again.

"Yeah it was a nightmare." Eliot confessed. "From something I experienced…..long before I met you. It was a….dark time in my life."

"You said you were ready to kill him. Who was him?" Parker nudged.

"Jameson Levi." Eliot growled. "At least that was his name at the time. Torturer. Trafficker. Poacher. You name it, he does it, and worse. Bounty hunter - oh that's his favorite title. And like every hunter, he loved a challenge. And what was a bigger challenge than the great Eliot Spencer." Eliot scoffed and pulled into himself a little more. "And he got me."

Eliot hadn't even gotten to the harder details before he started shaking again. The memories were too much. They were like a wave, a tsunami, that was rising above him, ready to crash and threatening to drown him. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. This was bad. This one was one of the bad ones. When he had been alone, dealing with this was virtually impossible. He would sit alone in his bed, shaking and trying to breathe as the memory of those six weeks, those torturous sex weeks in hell, close to death but never dying, assuaged him. Eliot ran a hand through his greasy hair, knotting his fist into it. This was where he would tear clumps of it out in his rage, his panic, his fear and disgust at himself for being so weak, so completely vulnerable. But he never got the chance to this time.

He felt soft arms wrap themselves around him. He felt a gentle hand run soothing circled on his back, another still cupping his cheek, a thumb wiping away the tears that he hadn't noticed on his face.

"It's okay, Eliot. I'm here now. I'm here. Parker's gotcha. Parker's gonna keep the bad things away." She whispered to him. Eliot let her, let her rock him like he was a small child, because for once it felt good to be vulnerable. It felt good not to be so strong, not to have that wall of steel up. So he let her help him. And he would continue to let her help him for as long as he loved her - forever.


	34. Now I Lay Me (Pt 1)

**A/N: So glad you guys liked the last chapter! I promise I'm going to try and update more regularly, especially since finals are coming up and then winter break, which means I'll have a month to update and write, hopefully.**

 **Also: I got the fifth and final season of Leverage on DVD, so I'll finally be able to see the whole series! Can't wait!**

 **Please continue to review. I love you guys so much for the comments that you leave and I appreciate the feedback.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Eliot, I really don't see the point in all of this."

"Nate, really? That's bullshit and even you know it."

Sophie, Hardison, and Parker hovered curiously behind the closed door of Nate's office. He and Eliot were having what sounded like a serious discussion, but that had hardly stopped the three other thieves from eavesdropping anyways. And it's not like it was that hard - both Nate and Eliot had gone from calmly quiet to almost shouting in the last few minutes, as was normal with the two stubborn dominant personalities, though it still wasn't clear as to what this argument was about.

"Eliot, I appreciate your concern, but there's really no need to have so many. And besides, we're well established here and -"

"And what? Might I remind you, we were well established with our first headquarters too, and that literally blew up in our faces thanks to Blackpool and Sterling. Who's to say something like that won't come up again? We've already had the place shot through by that sniper when we went after Moreau. I'm telling you, Nate. It's a good idea. I can eve offer up one or two of mine."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Eliot, and that's the end of that. I mean, even for argument's sake, if I did agree with you, doing it all right now is-is foolish and - and pointless. Hardison can easily get us all we need if it comes to it -"

"No offense to you or Mr. "Age of the Geek", " Eliot interrupted, "But neither of you have been on this side of things before and you'd be clueless setting it up. That's why you have me."

"What side of things?" Nate asked shortly.

"The Dameon Moreau side of things, Nate!" Eliot roared. "The side of things that means kill or be killed. My side of things!"

"What do you think they're talking about?" Sophie whispered to the thief and hacker beside her, both eagerly pressing their ears to the door. It wasn't often that any of them were kept out of the loop, so it made this private "behind doors" conversation all that more enticing and infuriating.

'Why don't we just ask them?" Parker said simply. She stood suddenly and before either Sophie or Hardison could grab her, she had grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door to Nate's office wide open, walking calmly in as if it was hers. Guiltily, Sophie and Hardison followed. Nate and Eliot were standing on opposite sides of the room, with impassive, though Eliot was still seething with barely repressed annoyance and no small amount of anger. His arms were crossed on his chest, and his head hung low, his hair hanging like a curtain in front of his face. Nate, for his part, looked resigned, and Parker was lounging easily in the chair behind his desk.

"Yes?" Nate sighed impatiently.

"What's going on Nate?" Sophie looked at her lover worriedly. "Eliot?"

"Come on, guys. We heard you two hashing something out." Hardison said.

"We weren't "hashing" anything." Nate tried to smile, to play it all off like he always did, but Sophie knew none of them were going to buy it. "It was just a -a simple discussion between friends."

"You were yelling." Parker said softly, not looking at any of them, but instead choosing to fiddle with something in her hands. "I don't like yelling."

"We weren't-"

"I'm sorry about that, darling." Eliot sighed, finally looking up. "Really, I - I didn't want it to go that far but he," he pointed an accusing finger at Nate, "just won't listen to common sense."

"Now, see, you're not being fair here, Eliot." Nate started but Eliot wasn't having it.

"Fair?" Eliot gave a sharp laugh. "Since when have you ever cared about what was fair? I don't remember thinking that your stint in prison was fair, or honestly, letting Sterling off the hook for everything he's done."

"Who, whoa, whoa." Hardison held his hands up placatingly. "Can someone please explain what the hell y'all are even going on about?"

Neither Eliot or Nate spoke for a few minutes. Sophie watched them, watched that stupid mini macho showdown that they were having with their eyes, their body language, their stubborn refusal to relent and let them into their conversation. Maybe they knew that the three of them could change the tide of the decision, in either direction. Finally, after an eternity it seemed, Eliot was the one to relent. He gave another sigh, blowing his dark hair from his eyes and glanced at Parker, who was still fiddling with something small.

"Safe houses."

"Excuse me?" Hardison blinked, leaning in. "What was that? Did-did you just say safe houses? That was it? Are you serious? Are you - goddammit we thought it was something serious and y'all are in here screaming about some stupid safe houses?"

"Hey, it is serious." Eliot snapped, uncrossing his arms and standing at attention.

"I don't doubt that." Sophie said calmly, walking further into the room. She went to stand beside Nate, though made it evident that it was more for a visual effect rather than her prematurely taking sides in the war. She leaned casually against the desk, her dark eyes addressing the hitter curiously. "Perhaps you could enlighten us on why you two were so….verbal on the issue of safe houses?"

"Look, okay, there's no issue here." Nate clapped his hands together, still trying to play it off as casually as he could. Always the con man.

"Wait, I'm confused." Parker looked up from her hands. "Does Nate not believe in safe houses? That's silly. Everyone has one."

"Well, maybe not everyone, babe." Hardison cut in. "But Nate…I mean, we all have a place we can hide out in emergencies. I got a place, Parker's got a place, Sophie, Eliot -"

"I don't have a "place"." Eliot snapped. "Okay, it's not some box apartment over a Chinese restaurant. It's not a man-cave or - or some back room in an abandoned arcade. I have safe houses, emphasis on the plural."

"So you have a few hideaways -" Sophie started but was interrupted yet again.

"One hundred and fifty six." Eliot said directly. Four pairs of eyes stared at him in shock. "What? What do you think I do with my take of our jobs? And how about that first big take, right when we started, that multi-million hit?"

"But….one hundred and fifty six different places?" Parker gaped. "Why do you need so many houses? I thought most people only had one."

"Parker, they're not like actually houses you live in all year round." Eliot started but a thought had occurred to Sophie and she cut him off with a regal wave of her hand.

"Eliot, what did you mean when you said that neither Nate nor Hardison would know how to "set one up?" That they, or rather, we had never been on "your side of things" before?"

Again, there was a few minutes of silence. Sophie had to reflect that this wasn't their weirdest conversation by far, nor their most intense, but it still felt…..hard. It had an intensity to it that wasn't strange, but it was new. Sophie looked at Eliot a little more closely, saw the carefully hidden bags under his eyes, the stress and the strain that he was doing everything to hide from them. He was holding himself carefully, and Sophie remembered that on their last job he had cracked a few ribs pushing Nate out of the way from a golf cart. Eliot had gotten clipped, but he had brushed it off as if it was nothing. She blinked, bringing herself back to the present.

"I've been at this job for a long time." Eliot said softly. "What I do….it's led me to make some hard choices. You saw the kind of work Dameon Moreau and his men are into. I used to work for him, did things that I'm not proud of, things that still haunt me, still give me nightmares. It's a dark side to this business, a side we've kept ourselves out of for so long. But it's kill or be killed when it comes down to it, and I haven't been killed yet. But that life…I left it when I joined up with you. This team. Nate isn't Moreau and I'm not…I'm not the same man I once was. That's not say I'm still not dangerous, that I'm not hunted, that I don't have a thousand enemies out there who'd like to gut me like a pig."

"Eliot." Sophie said sharply, but still with a hint of gentleness. She knew how hard it was for him to open up, but he was going off on a tangent. "The point?"

"My point, Sophie," Eliot said, "is that I am not, and will never be, safe. Wherever I go, whoever I work with, whatever con or heist I pull, I leave a mark that can be easily traced. So I have a safe house in every state, in countries strategically placed all around the world. And when I say a safe house, I don't mean a vacation home in Tokyo with butlers and a penthouse view, or an abandoned acrobatics studio, or a little townhouse in West Virginia, or an apartment over a high rolling gaming company."

"Well. Beggars can't be choosers." Hardison snarked.

"My houses are average, two story builds." Eliot said, pointing at them for emphasis. "Each one is equipped with state of the art security, plus some of my own precautions. I have only one staff member who checks in on the house regularly, and who I contact to stock it with food and necessities when I'm in the area just in case. Everything is state of the art, from appliances to vehicles. Everything. There's four master bedrooms, an industrial bathroom, a fully stocked medical supply and even an on call nurse in every area."

"Isn't that a little overboard?" Hardison asked. Eliot glared at him, and there was even some resignation mixed with it.

"This is what I meant, Nate. None of you can ever understand because you've never lived in the world I've lived in. No, Alec, it's not overboard. It's barely enough to keep me stable. These houses are necessary if a job goes bad in the best case, or in the worst, which means I only just made it out of there alive. Too many solo jobs have gone down where I can only just stand without my knees buckling, where the blood loss isn't critical yet, where my head wasn't completely bashed in. Those safe houses are there for a reason when I got to recuperate, when I got to hide."

"So you asked Nate if we could set one up for the team?" Sophie asked.

"No." Eliot breathed. "I told him that everyone needs to set up their own. That the team should have one in every state, and everyone should do the same for themselves, like I did. And as I said, I can put one or two of mine up for the team, but -"

"You want to make sure we're safe." Parker said. It was the first thing she had said in a while, during the last half hour of the conversation. She was looking directly at Eliot, her eyes wide and unblinking, but intelligent. Eliot took in a breath and nearly choked.

"It's my _job."_ If Sophie didn't know any better, she would have thought he was sobbing. "But I'm not always going to be here. And if I'm not here, if this place can't be safe and I cannot keep you safe, then you need somewhere to go, somewhere only you know and that's perfect for you. A safe house."

"Eliot, what's this about?" Nate stepped forward, suddenly very concerned for the younger man. He had been prepared for the anger, the brashness and the military precision type orders. But this kind of broken emotion wasn't normal for the hitter - it meant something was very, very wrong. Indeed, when Eliot looked at him, his blue eyes were cracked with repressed feeling and he was shaking slightly.

"An old contact got in touch with me." he whispered. "It might be nothing. But there might come a time when I have to take care of some business. I don't know if….I need to know that if something happens when I'm on my own, or in a job, and I'm gone, that you guys have what you need. And that means that in every state, you have a place to set up shop."

Nate stared at Eliot for a moment. He was hiding something important, that much was true. Whatever it was, it had this man rattled. Nate knew better than to push it too far right now, and he knew that sooner or later, whatever it was would come to light. Hopefully before it was too late.

"Okay. I'll put some thought into it." Nate nodded.

"Me too, man." Hardison said.

"I can spare a few million." Sophie smiled.

"I think I can live with parting with my money….for you." Parker said, and stood from her desk. She held up what she had been playing with. It was a necklace - a locket, actually, in the shape of an oval. She reached behind her and hooked the clasp, letting the locket rest right in the hollow of her throat. Eliot watched her with bright eyes, not saying a word. One by one, he made eye contact with each them, as if assessing what they were saying as he truth.

Finally he nodded once, then turned and walked from the office, leaving them all in silence.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_


	35. Down To Sleep (Pt 2)

**A/N: Let's continue, shall we?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage - except on DVD!**

 **Reviews are appreciated, and always read.**

 **Warning: some creative swearing.**

* * *

Previously: 

_"An old contact got in touch with me." Eliot whispered. "It might be nothing. But there might come a time when I have to take care of some business._

* * *

Now: 

Five months. It had been five months, almost to the very second, and Parker was done. Five months of silence, of waiting for a sign or a clue, or, hell, the fucking Bat signal, and she was done.

They were all standing around the kitchen, watching Hardison frantically try to put out a fire that was sparking on the stove. Parker watched with detached indifference, his yelps of shock and panic barely registering. Normally, she would be laughing her ass off while Eliot swore and yelled about how he was ruining his kitchen and how he was going to kill Alec and Nate sighed at the noise and Sophie fussed over Hardison and yelled at Nate to help her. That's what she wanted back. Because now, while Hardison still yelped and Nate still sighed and Sophie still fussed, Parker wasn't laughing. She wasn't laughing because Eliot wasn't swearing. And Eliot wasn't swearing because he wasn't here.

He hadn't been here for five months.

Parker reached up and touched the locket hung around her neck. She hadn't taken it off since the day Eliot left, the day he and Nate had argued about safe-houses. He had left almost immediately, gone home to set things in order, he had told them. And then the next morning, he had called Nate from a burner cell, saying he was sorry, saying that he thought he'd have more time but he had to take care of whatever business he had right now and he'd be back as soon as it was done.

Parker clutched the locket in her hand. What kind of job takes five months to finish? And how come he hadn't contacted them at all?

"Parker?"

Sophie's voice broke her from her anxious thoughts, and she noticed that the fire was out, and Hardison had finished screaming and now all three of the rest of her team were looking at her with sad, concerned eyes. The same looks they always gave her these last months.

"Parker, are you okay?" Sophie asked again. Parker was suddenly filled with a surge of irrational anger and she dropped the locket back against her chest, the heavy metal making a comforting thump against her collarbone.

"Am I okay?" She spoke softly, but there was no mistaking the anger and the stress in her voice. "I haven't been okay for five months, Sophie. Five months! Why would today be different? Is Eliot back? Have we heard anything from him? Do we know if he's okay? Or if he's alive?"

"Parker -" Nate started, but Parker cut him off as she whipped her head to face him, her trademark ponytail lashing out behind her like a deadly blonde whip.

"No. No more "Parker". I'm not a child, and I'm not the one you need to worry about! Okay?" Parker demanded. "It's Eliot."

"He told us he would take care of it." Hardison said. "He doesn't want us involved in whatever he's got going on, and we all agreed that we'd respect that."

"Oh please. Since when have we ever respected each other's privacy?" Parker snorted. "Yeah, we all got secrets, but that means shit when one of our own goes AWOL for months on end without a word. I mean, are you kidding me? I thought we were family!"

"We are." Nate said firmly. Parker looked at him again, but her anger abated at what she saw. His face was tired, drawn, and there were circles under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping. And if that's what he looked like, then Parker knew he really hadn't been sleeping. Once upon a time, she might have thought he had been drinking and he was hungover, but those days were long gone. Sure, he still drank, but it wasn't like before. It was like he was back in control. So seeing him like this really hit her that he actually was taking Eliot's disappearance harder than she had thought. Parker looked around at Sophie and Hardison and saw similar signs of fatigue and stress and Sophie's eyes were rimmed with red and the mascara smudged, as if she had been crying and tried to hide it. Hardison was more quiet than he used to be. He no longer rambled on and on about pointless World of Warcraft facts, or talked Doctor Who or hollered about "The Age of the Geek". Parker wondered how much of that had been purely to annoy Eliot, the way a younger brother annoyed his big brother. The thought hit her in the heart.

"I'm sorry." Parker whispered. "I didn't mean -"

"We know." Sophie said. "Parker, we know. And it's killing us that we don't know anything about Eliot. But there isn't much we can do."

It was strange to hear that, and altogether horrible. The thing that Parker had come to count on about Leverage and their team and everything about them was that there were no limits to what they could accomplish. They had conned in fifteen minutes, on an airplane, on boats, in Europe and during a blackout. They had conned masters in the trade, Interpol and state police and the FBI. They could find anyone and find everything and it never ceased to amaze Parker what they were capable of together. So when Eliot left, while it made her feel a little unsteady, she knew that if he was gone for too long, they'd be able to find him in no time and swoop in to the rescue.

But that was before she learned that he had used an untraceable burner cell to call them, that he had erased the aliases they knew of, completely cleaned out the safe house and his apartment in the area, canceled the credit cards they knew of, sold his truck, and all but erased himself off the earth. So when almost two months had gone by and Nate had decided to look into it, there was nothing for them to trace. Nothing. It was like Eliot had never existed.

By the third month, Parker had gotten anxious. She was freaking out without Eliot. She started having nightmares. There were weeks on end where she would wake up screaming, dark dreams about fire and blood and Eliot always just out of reach but needing them, needing _her,_ and it slowly drained her. The locket was the only thing that gave her any comfort.

It had been a gift. A gift from Eliot, though no one else knew that. Inside were two tiny pictures, and Parker would never admit it, but when she had first gotten the present, she had sat and stared for hours at both of them, fascinated with the tiny faces, the capture of the memories.

The first photo was a picture of all of them - Parker had a hunch it was a surveillance photo from one of them many bad guys who were always hunting them down. Maybe it had been Sterling - but nevertheless, it had been a picture of all of them, together, sitting at that restaurant Sophie had dragged them too - where Eliot had later been poisoned, but they hadn't know that yet, and there they were, smiling and actually having a good time all together, like a family.

The second picture was just Parker and Eliot. It was when they had been dancing in the living room, unaware that the rest of the team was watching them. Their heads were bent close together, eyes closed and arms wrapped loosely around each other. It was a surprisingly good picture and it had quickly become one of Parker's favorites. So during that hard third month, she would open the locket when she was alone and stare at that picture and try to recall how his arms felt around her.

By the fourth month, Parker started looking again. She rappelled around the city at high speed, checking his old favorite haunts just in case he stopped in, and when she wasn't back in her hangar or at HQ, she was flying around the city, hunting for her hitter. She even went so far as to call his family, his sister Tessa and all of them, and see if he had checked in. But she hung up as soon as Tessa had said hello. She couldn't bring them into this…and what would she even say? She couldn't lie to them and she couldn't tell them the truth. It was easier to step away, like Eliot did so long ago, and that was when she had finally grasped his decision, and why, when they had forced him to visit so long ago, it had been so hard.

Five months in, and now Parker was terrified - and angry. When she finally got her hands on Eliot Spencer, she was going to beat him senseless - or fall into his arms crying, depending. She would probably do both - beat him in front of everyone else, and then collapse once they were alone. She had pictured it so many times, it was like a vision for the future - but not yet. Not until they've found Eliot.

"We can start again." Parker said. "We haven't tried in two months. What if something's changed? What if he sent out a signal and we didn't see it because all of a sudden we decided to be decent people? We're thieves, dammit!"

The four of them looked at each other for a split second, and then it was as if a shot went off. They leapt into action like the backwards superheroes they were and Parker all but vaulted over the couch so she could be right up and personal with the screen.

"Alright, alright, ladies and gents. Give me some criteria. Where's Waldo?" Hardison cracked as he waggled his fingers over his tablet.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" Nate said. "We know the burner cell is a dead end. What about surveillance cameras? Can we go over that footage again?"

"We already checked the cameras around Eliot's apartment." Sophie mentioned. "He had already tampered with the feeds and it was all useless until hours after we knew he was gone."

"Damn cowboy is more tech savvy than I gave him credit for." Hardison griped, though Parker knew he was secretly proud and impressed with Eliot's hidden skill.

"Right, right, right." Nate mused. "But this is Eliot. So he knew we'd check around his apartment. He knew we'd check around the spots that he frequents, knew we'd check every obvious…" He trailed off, and Parker felt a tremor of excitement trickle down her spine. She knew that look. That was Nate's "I-had-an-idea" face, the one that was usually followed by a clever twist in their con right at the point when things were about to go south.

"Nate, what is it?" Sophie said eagerly. Parker wasn't the only one who knew what that face meant.

"We checked the cameras around Eliot's apartment and safe house in the area." Nate confirmed. "But did we ever check the cameras around _this_ building?"

There was stunned silence. Then -

"Are you shitting me?!"

"I swear to fuck, if that - that _dick douche_ literally left us a clue in front of our own fucking building -"

"That bloody cockwaffle!"

"Are we all dumbasses?"

The chorus of swearing went on for a while, which Parker briefly enjoyed as things got more and more creative, before watching with intent seriousness as Hardison quickly tapped into their security camera feed and logged into five months previous.

"Thank the Lord I had the brains to install a backup server to hold at least a year's footage." he remarked. "If I had gone the regular route of monthly, we'd be up shit creek without a paddle if you know what I mean."

"Huh?" Parker gawked.

"Nevermind, Parker." Sophie waved her hand. "All he means is we have the reel from five months ago up until today."

Hardison tapped more buttons on his tablet and Parker watched as the video on the screen began to scrub through itself, little green check marks popping over every head on any person that walked through the frame. Beside the video, some kind of image processor was whirring full speed.

"I'm analyzing facial recognition so we don't have to sit and watch five months worth of recording. Instead, I've programmed it to specifically teach out Eliot's facial features and body structure, so if he's been anywhere near here while he's been AWOL, we'll see it. It's only a matter of time."

* * *

Turns out a matter of time was a nice way of saying forever. Parker glanced at the clock again. Four and a half hours.

"You know the guys on CSI have their machines beeping and whirring and answers spewing out in, like, five minutes." Parker griped.

"Parker, CSI is a television show and everything is condensed to fit an hour time slot." Nate called out from where he was making another pot of coffee. "In real life, these things take a lot long-"

 _BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

"Hardison!" Parker screeched. There was a crash, a door slam and the hacker came running, hiking up the waistband of his jeans.

"Jesus, woman, I was in the bathroom! I could hear the beeping! You couldn't let me find my business?"

'It's Eliot." Parker said simply, as if that answered everything. And in a way, it did.

"Okay. Let's see." Hardison hit a few more buttons, sorting through the data his program had complied. Sophie and Nate came in behind him, and they waited anxiously to see if there would be a sign of their hitter.

"There!" Parker yelped suddenly, pointing at the screen. "That's him."

There was a figure on the video, and the size and shape of the shoulders and body made it easy to conclude that it was a well built man. He was dressed in all black, and Parker thought it might have been leather, and a tinted motorcycle helmet was covering his head. Overall, there was no way to actually identify the person. But Parker knew. She _knew._

"Parker, you can't even see who that is. It could be anyone." Sophie said.

"Hold on." Hardison said, typing away. "The body structure does fit Eliot's. There's a good chance Parker's right. I mean, I can't be one hundred percent sure, but come on. What are the odds that there are two people out there with the exact same shoulder-hip width ratio? I'll tell you - slim to none. I think we got him."

"YES!' Parker shrieked. "Where is he?"

"Hardison, when was this recorded? And see if he appears in any other frames besides this one." Nate ordered and the hacker was off at full speed.

"Okay. Looks like the first time this Maybe-Eliot was recorded was about three months ago. And he shows up every couple of days - and here he is. Yesterday afternoon. 3:45. It kooks like he always comes to stand in this spot, like he's waiting for someone. Then after fifteen minutes, he just rides off again." Hardison brought up still images of the videos and lay the images of the mysterious figure clad in black in a line. The motorcycle helmet was always down, the tinted visor blocking all sight of his face. Parker eyes the pictures hungrily.

"He's here. He's been here." she whispered. "But he's not coming forward. Why?"

"Something's happened." Sophie said. "Something must have happened. Maybe the danger is here now, and he's trying to protect us."

"Maybe." Nate mused. "The only person who can answer that is Eliot, I'm afraid."

"So let's ask him." Parker said, turning to her team, eyes glinting.

* * *

Parker pulled the brim of her hat down and turned the collar of her jacket just a little bit higher up on her neck. Across the street she could see where Nate and Sophie had set themselves up in the bakery, and Hardison was looking down from the apartment above, in the command center. Parker was stationed to where they estimated the motorcyclist would ride up, where he had been the last dozen or so times he had come.

 _"_ _Parker, you're the only one he might let close enough to him to actually figure out what's going on." Nate told her. "We can't risk something happening if we all swarm him. If something really happening here, if one of his enemies is here and he's trying to protect us - we need to know anything we can so we can help him and let him come home to us. To you."_

He knew about the locket. Nate always knew, which meant he knew about them. Officially, that is. Sure, the others could guess. They had seen them dancing and everything after all. But they had never announced it officially, never really done anything else in front of the team. They were a secret, sort of. But Parker vowed that if Eliot came back to her today, she would scream and yell all through the city that she was in love with Eliot Spencer, and that he better get used to it.

The revving of an engine startled her out of her thoughts and Parker tucked herself further into her jacket, and pressed herself up as m=nonchalantly as she could against the brick wall of the building. Out of the corner of her eye, Parker watched as a motorcycle roared up to the curb, the cyclist the same figure in black from the pictures. As the engine came to a purring halt, Parker stared at the bike - and it wasn't just any motorcycle. It was a Ducati.

* * *

 _"_ _If you could buy only one more thing, just one more thing and nothing else for the rest fo your life, what would it be?"_

 _Parker was lying on top of Eliot's chest, their bare skin glistening with the after glow of making love, their chests heaving as their heart rates slowed down. They had been quiet for a while when this silly little question popped into her head. She liked silly little questions, and even more asking Eliot them at random times. It amused her to be able to surprise him, and his answers always gave her more insight into the man she was slowly falling in love with._

 _She felt the rumble of laughter in his chest, and felt his arm encircle her._

 _"_ _I suppose I would buy a Ducati."_

 _"_ _A motorcycle?" Parker scoffed. "Why?"_

 _"_ _It's not just a motorcycle, Park." Eliot laughed. "I've wanted one of those for years. Trouble is, it's not something expendable like the rest of my stuff. I mean, I can get a Ford truck anywhere in the state and I wouldn't give two shits. But a Ducati….what I wouldn't give to have one of those. For me to buy one, though, means I'd have to settled down somewhere, and that just isn't in our line of work."_

 _Parker just lay there, listening to his heartbeat while she thought that over, letting fingers trail over her arms._

 _"_ _What about you darlin'? What would you buy?"_

 _Parker thought about it for a minute before looking up at her boyfriend (even thinking that word gave her chills) and smiling softly._

 _"_ _A Ducati sounds pretty awesome, if you ask me."_

* * *

Parker watched as the figure in black cut the engine and pushed out the kickstand with the heel of his foot. The helmet swiveled to face her, and Parker wished she could see crystal blue eyes beneath the tinted glass, but there was nothing. Slowly, the figure got off the bike, boots hitting the concrete noiselessly. He walked around the Ducati, and made his way to where Parker was standing.

 _"_ _Okay, Parker. Do your thing."_ Nate's voice in her ear helped her steady herself and she straightened up as this Maybe-Eliot approached. She took off her hat, slipped her ponytail out from the back and let her blond curls hang around her face, the way he always liked it, and unzipped her jacket partway, showing that she was wearing a cut up of one of his T-shirts. The figure paused, only slightly, but kept walking towards her.

"Eliot?" Parker said. "Eliot, is that you?"

This time, the figure stopped walking completely. There they stood, facing each other, neither one of them moving or making a single sound, instead letting the world rush by around them.

"Eliot, if it is you…" Parker swallowed. If this wasn't Eliot, this was going to be super embarrassing on different levels, but she had to chance it. "For whatever reason, you've been gone for five months. For whatever reason, you haven't reached out to us, even though you've been here and we've been right up there. For whatever reason, you've left me wondering whether or not you were alive, whether or not you've left me for good. All that, believe it or not, I can understand because I know that for whatever reason, you were doing this to protect me. To protect us. And I can't fault you for that."

He didn't move.

"Eliot, please. Whatever is going on, whatever you're trying to protect us from, we can help." Parker pleaded. "You're not alone anymore. And I am not letting you walk away from me today. Not after almost half a year of missing you. I love you, Eliot Spencer, so like it or not, you're stuck with me."

Slowly, painfully slowly, the figure reached up the the helmet and lifted it away from his face - and for the first time in forever, Parker sighed in relief. As the helmet came away, familiar silky black hair shook out, and Parker took in the fading bruises on porcelain skin, the split lip, the black eye, the gash along his cheekbone, and those beautiful blue eyes.

"Eliot…" Parker sighed and she ran forward the remaining four feet that separated them and flung her arms around him. "Eliot, Eliot, Eliot…"

"Parker," Eliot groaned in response, most likely due to more bruises and injuries he had hidden, but his arms still gripped her to his body. "Parker, I'm so sorry."

"I know. I know."

"I'm trying to protect you, all of you. But it's almost over, I promise."

"I kno- wait, what do you mean 'almost'?" Parker pulled back slightly. "Nate, Sophie, back off a second." She spoke the last part into her comm and saw Eliot's eyes clear in understanding before glancing upwards to where the apartment was.

"Tell Hardison to back away from the window while your at it. I'm not completely sure where they might be hiding."

"They?"

 _"_ _They?"_ Hardison yelped in her ear. _"Sure, leave it to Eliot to have a fucking militia after him. Oh, Nana, I should have just gone to music school like ya wanted. None of this would be happenin' I'd just be playing the violin and being fancy and drinking sparkling Fanta -"_

"Shhh!" Parker hissed. "Eliot, tell me. Tell me what's going on."

"I -" Eliot started but then something changed. He glanced over her head and Parker watched his eyes dilate the way they did when he was in "Hitter Mode". "Parker, do you trust me still?"

"Yes." Parker didn't even hesitate. No matter the past, she would always and forever trust the man before her. Eliot glanced back down at her and smiled. Briefly, he leaned in and kissed her softly, and Parker felt he stomach light up in such a way she hadn't felt in ages.

"I love you." he whispered and then in a split second, he shoved her hard away from him and to the ground just as a gunshot echoed through the air.

* * *

 **TBC**


	36. My Soul To Keep (Pt 3)

**A/N: I apologize with the swearing from the last few chapters. I did include a warning, and please be advised that I am the writer and while I take into consideration the fact that some readers might find the swearing excessive, I am only trying to make it realistic with the characters. In real life, people swear, and have sex and do many other things, and these are only characters on a page that I do not own, but am using as muses for my creativity. It's fan fiction.**

 **I will try to censor the lines. I do not mean to make anyone uncomfortable with my writing, however I will continue to write with the inspiration I'm given. There is a rough swear further below, so I apologize in advance.**

 **Now, without further ado, Part 3. This is also the final part. The next chapter will be an unrelated one shot as per usual.**

* * *

Previously: 

_No matter the past, she would always and forever trust the man before her. Eliot glanced back down at her and smiled. Briefly, he leaned in and kissed her softly, and Parker felt he stomach light up in such a way she hadn't felt in ages._

 _"I love you." he whispered and then in a split second, he shoved her hard away from him and to the ground just as a gunshot echoed through the air._

* * *

Now: 

"Eliot!" Parker screamed as she saw her hitter jerk backwards as the bullet tore through his left shoulder. He stumbled, but remained on his feet, holding his arm close to his body. Parker scrambled on the ground, trying to get to her feet, but fell back on her elbows as Eliot kicked out at her.

"Parker, stay down!" he snarled. "I can't take care of him and try and watch you and keep you safe. Not this time. They're too good."

Parker stared at him in shock, but listened to him and kept her body flat on the concrete. It went against her instincts (they were screaming at her to move, dodge, avoid everything and everyone at all costs) but this was Eliot, _her Eliot,_ and if he told her that he couldn't do something (and that was a whole new level of terrifying, thinking that Eliot Spencer couldn't do something he could do before) then he couldn't do it. So she watched him with fearful eyes as he pressed his back up against the brick wall and pulled a .45 out of his waistband.

"Eliot…" Parker whispered again.

"Parker, I promise. I will explain everything to you and the others. I promise that, okay? And I will apologize for leaving you these last months with nothing to go on, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But first, I have to make sure these guys don't ever come after me again. And you, for that matter."

Another gunshot, and people on the street started screaming, and Eliot swore profusely under his breath.

 _"_ _Parker? Parker, what's going on?"_ Hardison's voice in her ear was muted under all the noise, but it spurred the thief into action.

"Hardison, someone's shooting at Eliot." Parker barked. "He's already been shot. We need your help. Nate, Sophie -"

"Parker, don't involve them!" Eliot yelled as he dodged another bullet, this one lodging into the brick right where his head had been a second ago. "It's too dangerous!"

 _"_ _Dangerous? Damn right it's dangerous! Would've probably been less dangerous if he had told us what the hell was going on about five months ago!"_

 _"_ _Hardison, we can all yell at Eliot later once he's alive."_ Nate cut in. _"First we got to get Eliot and Parker away from the shooter and take him down. Can you figure out where the shots are coming from?"_

 _"_ _Sure, sure, sure. Give me a few minutes."_

"Alec, we might not have a few minutes!" Parker yelled as another shot went off, and she heard Eliot grunt again. "Eliot!"

"I'm alright. Just a graze that time." the hitter grunted as he shifted weight off of his right leg. Parker could see through the torn fabric of his pants to the bloody gash underneath, and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She had just gotten him back. There was no way she was losing him again, not this way.

"Hardison, we need you." Parker said again.

 _"_ _Hardison, tell me you have something."_ Sophie begged.

 _"_ _Okay, okay. Based on audio and from what I can see from the window -"_

"Hardison, you're not supposed to be at the window!" Parker said worriedly.

"He's at the -" Eliot scowled. "Damn hacker geek! Gonna get himself killed."

 _"_ _Gonna save your ass first, Mister High and Mighty. Shooters in a black SUV parked just down the street."_

"They're in a car?" Parker questioned. "Why?"

"Coverage, and prevents them from being seen out in the open, like if they were on a rooftop." Eliot panted. "What, they in that SUV parked on the corner there?" Parker nodded against the sidewalk. "Figures. They've been tailing me since Iowa."

"Iowa?" Parker muttered. "You were in Iowa?"

"Parker, I told you, later-"

Another shot, more screams, and Parker could hear sirens in the distance, but they were still too far away. They wouldn't get here in time, and with another glance at Eliot's face, she knew that he knew that, too. They were on their own here. She watched as Eliot's face masked another grimace of pain, and then he steeled himself. It was kind of fascinating to watch: it was like a slate being wiped clean, a mask of indifference being laid over his true self (something they all did, sure, but with Eliot is was like watching the sun set and disappear over the dark horizon, leaving nothing but darkness). She could see the determination, the instinct to survive, and to kill to ensure that, kick into gear within him, and she knew, instinctively, that they would be okay. It was the same feeling that she knew from the years of working with her team, her family. When Eliot was in that mode that the rest of them dubbed "Killer Hitter", they knew it was going to be messy, bloody, and hard. But they would survive, and all because of Eliot.

Eliot braced himself again on the wall, shifting his weight from his grazed leg, and he maneuvered his injured shoulder so that it was close to his chest and slightly behind the rest of his body before readjusting his grip on his gun.

"Be careful." Parker whispered, and she didn't think he heard her but for the slight furrow in his brow and the small twitch of his lips. And then he burst out from the wall, sprinting full force across the street, letting off a single shot from his gun. Somewhere, she heard rapid fire and more screams, as well as louder sirens. Parker lay face down, hands over her head and pressing her face firmly into the grimy concrete. She didn't want to see anything that might tear her already broken heart.

More cracks in the air, _bam bam bam,_ and then one loud, solitary _CRACK_ and then - silence. Well, she thought silence, but really it was filled with the unseen sirens and the dying out screams of civilians who had no idea what was going on. But there were no more shots, and no voices.

"Hardison?"

 _"_ _See for yourself."_

He didn't sound upset, or brokenhearted or even scarred to death like he would if Eliot had been brutally murdered in front of his eyes, or if Eliot had been the one doing the brutal murdering, so slowly, Parker lifted herself off the ground and got her her feet. As she stood straight, shows slightly surprised that the surrounding street didn't look like the set of Avengers or Captain America or one of those apocalyptic -city-destruction movies, with dust and debris from collapsing buildings and overturned cars and bodies littering the streets and fog rolling in and - okay, she _had_ to start filtering hers and Hardison's movie night choices. But now that Eliot was back, she doubted she would be letting him out of her sight long enough to watch a movie anyways, seeing as they had to make up for lost time. The thought of her boyfriend brought her back to the present, and she started to make her way down the street to where she could see the silent black SUV parked.

"Eliot?" she called out, then again, louder. "Eliot!"

"Parker!"

Parker started running, and within seconds she was across the street, running down the sidewalk, and suddenly she was in front of that damned SUV, and she saw the glass shattered to shiny, dusty pieces, the darker splotches where blood had sprayed, and slumped over bodies in the car. She saw the bullet holes that littered the side of the car, and the glint of golden shell casings on the grey sidewalk. She saw a semi-automatic tossed on the ground, and more blood spatter, but the one thing she still wasn't seeing was her Eliot.

"ELIOT!" Parker screamed - and then she saw him. He was walking towards her, clothes drenched in blood, some of it his and some of it belonging to the obvious bad guys, and his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He was walking with a limp, most likely from the graze from earlier, and his arm looked worse, but he was alive and he was _here_ and it was all over and he was _back_ and -

And suddenly Parker was running again, her heart deciding it couldn't wait to be back in the arms that fit so perfectly around her.

"It's okay, Parker." he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. But it's all okay now. I promise."

* * *

Eliot had refused a hospital, and since Parker hated the idea of Eliot being taken away from her again, even by kindly, helpful medical staff, they all agreed to let him lick his own wounds in the bathroom for a couple of hours before they celebrated his return - or beat him to a pull while he was down. The last one was Hardison's idea, and while Parker did not find it funny in the least, she could tell that he was pissed off and worried sick. They all had been on edge these last few months, and this was a hell of a way to say hello again. Parker wasn't the only one he owed an explanation.

The creak of the bathroom door alerted the four of them that he he was finishing up. Nervously, Parker paced the space in front of the couch. Nate, Sophie, and Hardison sat stiff and worried, though they were relieved, too, at Eliot being not dead and all, so Parker was a little confused at why they were altogether angry. She certainly wasn't angry….she didn't think.

Eliot walked slowly into the room, favoring his left leg and holding his left arm gingerly. Parker could see white bandages peeking out from underneath the collar of his loose grey shirt. Parker wanted to run to him, wanted to climb all over him like a freaking jungle gym and fuck him like he would disappear tomorrow. But she held herself back with great restraint, and with some form of dignity that was altogether new to her, she went and sat by the others, letting Eliot move so that he stood in front of them. He looked tired, but also…happy? Parker wasn't sure she was reading that expression right.

"I know," Eliot said softly, "I know I owe you guys one hell of a story."

"I think you owe us a whole damn book." Hardison griped. "That was some stunt you pulled, man. Five months. Five damn months, no signal, no phone call. Nothing, and then we gotta see that your still in the city, still coming by this _building,_ and you couldn't drop us a hint that you were still _breathing?"_

"Look," Eliot started but he was interrupted again.

"Eliot, I'm sure you can explain your reasons and all of that fairly well." Sophie said stiffly. "But I want to make sure you know how you're decision affected this team. We're a family, and as much as you gripe and yell and constantly remind us of that, I thought you always took it the most serious, what that word means. Family. And there you go, throwing it into our face as you disappear to galavant to who knows where -"

"Iowa." Parker cut in, but Sophie hardly spared her a glance.

"I cried for weeks. Hardison tried cooking and nearly blew us all up, and Nate has been sulking."

"I was not -"

"And I won't even begin to describe what you put Parker through."

"I couldn't risk getting you involved!" Eliot raised his voice, though it was nowhere near the thundering snarl he would have elicited before he left. "You've seen my side of things, the work I do, the people I used to be involved with. A lot of them still aren't happy I left that game."

"You mean being a killer for hire?" Hardison remarked, but Eliot was deadly serious.

"I mean exactly that. I never had friends before, or a family, and over these last several years with you guys, I finally got to have both. And for all the strength I found in this, here, I found a weakness too. You are my weakness." He glanced over to where Parker was sitting and she bit her lip. "All of you. If anything happened - if anyone came after you - if _these guys_ had come after you….I would have done anything to make sure you were safe. Even if it meant I wasn't."

"Eliot…" Parker whispered.

"I would die for each and every one of you." Eliot kept going. He wasn't looking at any of them directly, but rather at the floor by their feet. "But I know I couldn't lay that burden on you. So that's why I made such a fit over the safe houses. And that's also why I left five months ago and broke contact. I needed to get these guys off my trail once and for all."

"Who were they?" Nate asked. Eliot sighed and rubbed his face with his good arm. His face was flushed, and his skin was paler than it had been a few minutes ago.

"It was right after I discharged from the army. A few of us were recruited to form a new Delta unit, but with specialized training."

"Dude, you went to Assassin School?" Hardison cut in again.

"I'm a Retrieval Specialist, Alec." Eliot snapped. "And this was legitimate bootcamp. Our stint in the army gave us a leg up with the other recruits. In total, there were maybe a dozen of us, and our unit was used when all other means of…negotiating were useless."

"This sounds like a bad action movie."

"Shut up, Hardison." Sophie and Nate barked. Parker kept her eyes trained on Eliot, watching him move and speak.

"Anyways," he continued, "we were in this unit for about four or five years. Got to know one another pretty well. Then, towards the end of things, something went bad. We stopped being the team we used to be and it was "every-man-for-himself". We were on a mission overseas and….half of them didn't make it out of Syria alive. I ain't going to say more than that. But me and the five of the ones who did get out….it messed with us, man. I couldn't look at them the same way, couldn't see my brothers. I only saw the cowards who sold out our positions, _our country,_ for a quick couple million."

There was silence. No one really knew how to respond to that. How did you respond to something like that? Say, 'I'm so sorry"? What good would that do, when it's all said and done?

"The five of them - Cooper, Mickey, Looter, Benny, and Dean - didn't take too kindly to me stepping back. Called _me_ the coward, said I was wasting my talent. I mean, sure I had a knack for fighting and all of that. I was the best - still am. In this game, the name "Eliot Spencer" is a serious threat, or in our case, a safeguard against wannabe thugs coming after us. It's kept the five of them away from us for years. But I guess…I don't know, they figured that I was still a threat to them. That I'd somehow find a way to turn them in, get back at them somehow for what happened all those years ago in Syria. Thought they could get to me before I got to them."

"But why run?" Nate pressed.

"They practically killed half a dozen men in our unit. Somewhere along the line, they stopped being men - stopped being soldiers, brothers - and became monsters. They became what I am, and what I always try to contain. Savage. Bloodthirsty. Think they'd care about killing the four of you to get to me? This is why I cut ties with my family back home when I was eighteen. That way there's no leverage to get to me. You guys….Parker, you…." Eliot stopped talking abruptly and swallowed hard. The sheen of sweat on his forehead glistened sickly. "I am so sorry for all of it. But I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant that you would be safe."

Again, no one spoke for a long time. This was a lot to take in, but the atmosphere around them was a lot calmer than it had been before. Parker knew that they had issues to work through. Eliot would have to work hard to earn back the trust and familiar foundation of the team again. But it was possible. And they would be okay. Eventually.

"And the others?" Nate said again gently. "Cooper, Mickey, Looter, Benny and Dean?"

"They got the punishment they knew was coming." Eliot muttered. Then he raised his head, looking Nate directly in the eyes, his eyes flashing like ice. "It's over."

Parker stood and walked towards Eliot, moving like she had seen people do with skittish animals, how Eliot sometimes moved with _her,_ and gently wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the beginning heat of a fever radiate through him. Gently, oh so very gently, she leaned in and kissed his lips, letting her love and forgiveness flow through that one simple action, letting that one kiss portrays how much he had helped her grow over the years, how much she had changed for the better. That he could help as much as he hurt. As she pulled away, he pulled her back into his chest, letting his head rest on her shoulder.

"Yeah." Parker whispered. "It's over. It's over."

"Welcome home, Eliot."


	37. Stripped

**A/N: Hey guys. So I'm back to writing unrelated one shots, meaning that this chapter and the ones after are not connected to the last few.**

 **In case anyone as forgotten, AnimeGirl23 was kind enough when my story started to allow me to use inspiration from her story "50 Sentences". Some of the one shots come directly from the prompts of her story, which I develop into larger one shots or chapters. So a big thank you to her!**

 **Anyways, please continue to review, send me prompts, and leave constructive feedback. Everything helps! I tried to make this an actual case, but I don't know how convincing I made this, so please tell me your thoughts. This will not be a full storyline, just a one shot. A little awkward, a little weird, but funny, I think.**

 **Just a mild warning: this has brief mentions of trafficking and prostitution. I think it's all okay, but just in case.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please."

Nate strode - actually, he might have skipped, he was that happy - right in front of the couch where the rest of his team was lounging, with a smile on his face that made him look like the cat that caught the canary.

Eliot's eyes flickered open from their hazy midday doze and were immediately alert, ready, his instincts dormant but not extinct from his temporary hiatus from "hitter duty", as Parker called it. He quickly assessed Nate's face, the smug smile, the bright feverish look to him, and he caught the subtle gleam of excitement in his eyes. Eliot sighed. He knew that look. He knew that look very well. He had memorized that look over the last five years of working with Nate Ford and the rest of this crazy crew, and it so resembled the look Eliot got (or he was told that he got) when he let the best inside take control for just a little while, when his specific skill set was called into action. It was the look Parker got right before she leapt off a high rise building, before her harness could catch her weight.

Eliot leaned back further into the leather of the couch, wrapping his arms around Parker, loosely protective, as she snuggled - or rather, burrowed - into his side. She grazed his ribs and he masked a wince of pain, and shifted. Bad idea. The shift of his weight irked his shoulder and caused another jolt of pain to ripple through his body. He carefully adjusted his leg on the ottoman in front of him.

"Eliot?" Parker whispered. She kept her voice barely audible, and Eliot felt a flush of warmth. She knew - somehow she always knew when he was in even the slightest bit of pain. And the last thing he needed right now was for everyone - Nate looking at him eagerly, Sophie sitting just a foot away with her magazine and Alec right behind them with his laptop and console - to get all wide eyed and worried and mother-henning him like they had been the last six months. So Parker kept her voice so low only he would hear, and only she could feel the slight pressure of his hands on her back, and the small nod he did in response to her unasked question.

Six months ago, a job had, in all honesty, gone as bad as jobs could ever go. All five of them had ended up in the hospital for various injuries, most of them superficial. Sophie and Parker came away with nasty concussions and cuts and gashes, Alec had a few cracked ribs and Nate even had a punctured lung. But Eliot - Eliot had gotten the worst of it. It made sense, to him at least. He was the hitter, the protector, which meant he would always take the brunt of the punches, always, if it meant the others were safe. And while he hated the fact that his team still had injuries, he was still able to save them from suffering his fate.

Second degree burns on his upper thighs, rope burns on his wrists and ankles, shallow stab wounds along his stomach, whip lashes across his back, a hairline skill fracture, a gunshot wound in his left shoulder and his right kneecap, bruising around his neck, a broken nose and some chipped teeth, two black eyes, and a dislocated jaw.

That was his price that he payed in full for his team members to get to safety. And it was all worth it - to him at least. To the others, it was downright stupid and terrifying, seeing as he almost died. He did - his heart flatlined in the ambulance. But he was alive and for the last six months, Leverage and Associates had been on temporary hiatus until their hitter was back on his still slightly woozy feet, in top form as always.

Of course, not everyone adapted to relaxation very well. Sophie, of course, had no problem taking things slow and doing some local auditions and online shopping. And Hardison was killing time and his brain cells with his constant gaming, playing World of Warcraft, Shadow of War, Fortnight and Call of Duty. And Parker - well, Parker did what Parker always did when Eliot got hurt: she held onto him and didn't let got for anything. It was like she was afraid he would disappear, or maybe she thought that by holding him tight, she was pushing all the broken pieces back together. Six months, and Parker hadn't stolen so much as candy from a baby, or rappelled around the city, or done anything except hold onto him. Even now, when he was healed except for residual scars and aches and sore spots (for anyone else, it would have taken a year of recovery or more, but he was Eliot Spencer. He didn't have a year to heal, not with the line of work he was in), she snuggled and cuddled deeper into his side, and Eliot clung just as tightly to her.

It felt nice, having someone, having this kind of contact and having it mean something. For almost half a year, Eliot had actually gotten…accustomed to what he could only assume was a normal life, with friends who cared about him and the girl that he love- that he liked a lot. A whole damn lot.

But he knew Nate. Knew him pretty well, actually. Eliot could see how restless Nate was getting without having a job to keep him occupied. Nate Ford was a man who thrived off of the con, off of any scam and slip and trick and sleight of hand. Eliot had known, sooner or later, that this was coming.

"What'd we got, Nate?" Eliot sighed, swallowing another groan and Parker shifted again, jostling his ribs. Sophie looked up from her magazine briefly, and Eliot heard Alec telling his friends online to hold up a second.

"Oh, I am so glad you asked, Eliot." Nate gave a Cheshire Cat grin as he pulled the clicker from his jacket pocket and swinging around to face the monitors. "Meet Simon Nichols."

A full blown headshot of a young man in his twenties came up in front of them, looking exactly like someone copy and pasted it from a corporate website. He was startlingly handsome, almost too perfect, and that was what caught everyone's undivided attention.

Because no one was perfect. They knew that better than anybody.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. What's this?" Hardison pulled his headphones off and hung them around his neck, rubbing his bloodshot eyes blearily. "We off hiatus?"

"Nate, is this a job? Do we have a job?" Sophie put her magazine down and visibly perked up excitably. Then, so quickly it might not have even happened, Eliot saw her smile drop just a centimeter as she glanced his way. "But…are you sure…? I mean, six months…"

"Was too damn long to begin with." Eliot cut in sharply. Parker jumped a little in his arms but didn't pull away. "I was ready for action three months ago, but it was you guys who insisted I needed longer to heal. Come on, Soph. I'm fine. It's killing me, just sitting here under house arrest like this. I can pull a con, and I can sure as hell do my damn job. So let's hear the low down and move on already. I'm fine." Parker did pull away then, and Eliot had to work hard to mask the surprise and the disappointment he felt at the lack of contact. She had this strange look on her face, an expression he couldn't read, and that worried him just a little. He considered himself to be a bit on an expert at all things "Parker", especially after knowing her for five years, working beside her, thieving beside her. Not knowing what she was thinking now was almost enough to sidetrack him from the game plan.

Almost.

But Nate was rubbing his hands together, eager to get started, and Eliot could feel Sophie's motherly eyes on him. So he stubbornly turned away from the women and set his steel blue eyes on Nate, knowing that despite the lie everyone knew Eliot told them just now, that he was fine and wasn't still in some kind of minimal pain, Nate would be too ready to pounce on this new con to actually sideline him - at least right now. Instead, Nate nodded once and motioned back to the handsome photograph still glowing on the left side of the screens.

Eliot studied the image quickly, taking note of the prim powder blue suit, the perfect, pearly white smile, the slick, styled blonde hair - and the cold, calculating black eyes, where the equally calculated smile didn't quite reach. It was an image alright - one the man in the picture wanted you to see. Eliot was more than familiar with the type. Yeah, he could imagine the trouble this young man could cause in their world.

"Simon Nichols." Nate repeated, now in full swing of his spiel. "Son on Albert Avery Nichols, CEO of the multi-million, international escort service, Gentleman Class Enterprises."

"Oh I know them!" Hardison exclaimed, drawing four pairs of raised eyebrows in his direction. The hacker froze, suddenly aware of what he just let slip, and Eliot knew if he could, the man would be blushing redder than that dopey Flash t-shirt he was wearing right now.

"You know them?" Eliot asked sarcastically. "Gee, Hardison. What a lucky coincidence."

"Uh, oh, I, uh, I mean, I've _heard_ about them. From a friend, obviously…what I meant…okay, no. No, you know what? I know GCE, alright? I'm a good client of GCE. GCE does me, for me. Kay? I know their motto, I know their girls. They friendly. They nice. They talk to me. I like talking. Sometimes I just want to talk, and they talk. Plus I did some work back in the day for them so they got me for life, and it's a good deal! See -"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we all see." Nate cut in quickly with a barely disguised look of shock on his face.

"Man." Hardison sighed, rubbing his face. "Knew I couldn't keep it on the DL forever."

"Hey man, it's all good." Eliot said, and the hacker perked up for just a second. "I mean, I always figured that's where you got your dates."

"Okay, you know what-"

"Alright, enough. Enough!" Nate raised his hands to silence them. "Look, what you all do in your free time is your business. And while I may question some of that… _questionable business,_ Hardison's connection to GCE might come in handy for us."

"So what is it exactly that GCE's done, Nate?" Hardison asked. "Look, everything in their business is by the books. Besides the point that they hired me once upon a time ago, there's nothing criminal in their business or activities. I mean, an escort service is legal, provided the escorts don't have sex with the customers."

"Why not?" Parker spoke up.

"Because then it would be prostitution." Nate finished. "Okay, here's the company. What Gentleman Class Enterprises does is it hires men and women to be escorts for paying customers, in the sense that someone, say Hardison, paid for a date to a wedding, or a movie premiere or so on and so forth. They are merely there to be plus ones. Nothing more, nothing less. It's like a one-date dating service."

"And that's a multi-million dollar business" Sophie gawked.

"And entirely legal. The men and women who work as the escorts do not have sex with paying clients, seeing as that would be a form of prostitution." Hardison said. "The CEO, Arthur Avery Nichols, does all his business by the book, and each escort's contract specifies the rules of his company and what the purpose of their position is."

"Paid dates." Eliot muttered. "Jeez, who knew there was an untapped market in lonely losers."

"Hey, this lonely loser isn't afraid to open a can of whup-ass on your broken behind."

Eliot turned his head and growled, low and guttural, under his breath, and heard Hardison audibly gulp. He smirked as he turned back around, then saw Parker watching him with that blank eyed stare again and the smile fell from his face. What was going on with her? Eliot reminded himself that this was Parker and was a crazy enigma wrapped in a freaky mystery. She could be upset, or she could just be observing him, or she could be thinking about a million other things, like cookies or rabbits or skydiving off the Statue of Liberty. So why did he care so much about what was on her mind right now?

"Okay. So this is a perfectly legal multi-million dollar company that does nothing wrong, or even remotely suspicious, and takes care of the client liability by ensuring in the employee contacts the rights and offers of the positions." Sophie summed up, sighing. "Nate, I'm not seeing a reason for any kind of con on GCE."

"That's because we're not running a con on GCE." Nate said.

"But what about Simon, there?" Eliot asked. "You said he was the son of the CEO of the company."

"I said he was the son, not that he was following in Daddy's footsteps." Nate clicked the remote again, and right next to the headshot of Simon Nichols, another photo came up, followed by copies of what looked like legal documents. The photo was of a sleazy kind of building, with neon pink lights and blue palm trees framing the entrance. Above the door was a canopy with cursive writing in gold lights that said _Ladies Choice._

"A strip club?"

"A strip club." Nate nodded. "You see, one of the stipulations of GCE's contracts was that no one affiliated with the company is allowed to own or be otherwise affiliated with another business in opposition to theirs. Meaning, no other escort-type service. But Simon Nichols seems to have other ambitions outside of what Daddy wants."

"Okay…so Simon's running a few strip clubs around town. Sounds like that's his and Arthur Avery's problem." Sophie said. "Why are we getting involved?"

"Because it's not the strip club we're looking at." Nate said, and he clicked the button again. This time, a picture of a young girl, about nineteen years old, came onto the screen, and Eliot got a bad feeling about where this job was heading. "This is Maria Jacobs, the daughter of our client. Her mother came to me about a week ago, saying she was worried her daughter had gotten mixed up with something at the club where she worked. So I did a little digging on my own -"

"On your own?" Hardison interrupted, the disbelief evident in his voice. "Nate, you can barely work your cell phone. How'd you get all this?"

"Hardison, believe it or not, I'm a little more tech savvy than you give me credit for." Nate said sourly. "Anyways, I did some digging on my own and I found that Simon Nichols does not directly own _Ladies Choice_ , but a man named Hal Walton does, and, as the owner and proprietor, all proceeds go into a bank account under that name. A bit more digging revealed that up until a year ago, "Hal Walton" didn't exist, and no one has any idea who he is, not even the people who work for him over at the club."

"So you think Simon created an alias in order to run his own side business and make some extra cash?"

"And no one knows any different because no one digs deeper than the surface." Parker said. "It's pretty smart. Not genius, but smart."

"But again, not really something we sink our claws into. Why does Maria's mom think she's in trouble?" Sophie asked.

"Because she's gone missing."

No one spoke for a few minutes. Eliot's bad feeling grew worse as he realized where Nate was going with this case, why he took it, and why they couldn't afford to say no, even with Eliot still barely out of commission.

"It's a trafficking ring." Eliot whispered.

"Most likely." Nate said softly. "I mean, there's nothing confirmed. It could be trafficking, or prostitution, or maybe Maria just ran off. But her mother was scared that something was going on in that club, and with everything we know now, with Simon Nichols and GCE and the fact that there's some kind of front going on in the club, we can't afford to not take the job."

Eliot ducked his head for a second before looking at the rest of his team. He could see the unshed tears glittering in Sophie's eyes, the determined set of her jaw. He glanced at Parker who was cracking her knuckles nervously, though when she glanced over to him and caught him staring, she winked. And then he turned his head to take in Alec Hardison, who was already on his feet, arms crossed. Finally, Eliot turned around to face Nate, and he gave a feral smile.

"We're in."

"Alright team." Nate clapped his hands together. "Let's go steal a strip club."

* * *

Eliot ended up being sidelined. He hated it - but he really didn't have room to argue after he'd collapsed. He'd taken one punch to the head from Nichols' goons and gone down like a sack of bricks, and once he'd woken up, Nate had sternly told him he was off the job unless it was surveillance. With a blow to the head and to his ego, Eliot had sulked as he accepted the recon bit for this con.

Now the job stood like this - Nate was the owner and proprietor of another nightclub somewhere in Las Vegas and he was traveling with one of his "girls" played by Parker, and his business associate, played by Sophie. They had made sure to frequent _Ladies Choice_ often enough in the last two weeks so that they could get an eye on Simon Nichols, as well as give him the chance to check them out. Once he did, Nate and Sophie would lay into him about their own club, and Parker would grift her way in as a sorely mistreated yet talented showgirl. Simon Nichols, being the greedy sociopath he was, would leap at the chance to offer her what would seem a better deal, but in reality he would buy and sell her to the next highest bidder once she signed that contract. Then Hardison would come in as a prospective buyer and somehow, he'd end up buying hold of not only Parker, but any other girls Simon had, specifically Maria Jacobs, if she was still here.

That was there master plan, minus Eliot's role, which had been another trafficker. But once Nichol's goons had gotten hold of him when he was doing some recon of the back rooms, his bit in the job was done. So now he was sitting in the back of the strip club, nursing a beer, his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, keeping his eyes on his team. The first part of the plan had gone smoothly - meaning "Silver Antwerth" , played by Parker, was now employed by the _Ladies Choice_ gentleman's club. Now Hardison was in place next to Simon Nichols in the corner by the backstage doors, and Eliot could hear them muted in his ear, talking about possible sales and "customers" and the best routes to move the girls. Eliot knew Hardison was stalling for time, but he hated having to hear Nichols talk about all the things he's done to young girls over who knows how long, how he's moved them and kept them quiet and mistreated so they wouldn't cross him or the men he sold them to. He tried to tune them out, knowing that if he didn't, he'd blow this entire job by walking right up to that bastard and killing him on the spot, as painfully as possible.

Eliot turned his attention to where Sophie and Nate were huddled. Nate was hunkered down a few rows back from the main stage, and Sophie was behind him, pacing back and forth nervously, though it didn't look it. Eliot knew she was worried about how Parker would…perform. And for that matter, Eliot was nervous too, but not entirely for the same reasons. Eliot took another swig of his beer as he though back to the conversation he and Parker had a few hours earlier.

* * *

 _"_ _So.. I'm like Batman." Parker adjusted her bra and panties in the full length mirror of the dressing room. Eliot tried not to stare - he had seen her change a thousand times before in the middle of cons. If there was one thing Parker was not, it was shy. But there was something intimate about the lingerie she was wearing now, even if it was technically a stripper costume. She was playing a bit - Silver, a stripper. It wasn't Parker, it was a character. But why didn't his heart seem to get what his head already knew?_

 _"_ _No, you're not - you're not Batman, Parker!" Eliot sighed, leaning back into the couch. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on her before the show that night, where Simon Nichols was going to sell her, along with all the other girls he was trying to traffic, to Hardison. But Eliot was starting to realize he might be in over his head with this assignment._

 _"_ _Batman has a pole. This has a pole. Batman slides down the pole. I slide down the pole. Ergo, I'm Batman." Parker said blankly, and while it all sounded like something Parker would say, there was something missing in her voice._

 _"_ _Okay. Sure. You're Batman." Eliot whispered, and finally, she turned around. Eliot could feel the breathe catch in his chest at the sight of her and - what was happening to him? He never felt this way before…had he? What was the matter with him?_

 _"_ _Did you really hate us taking care of you when you were hurt?" Parker said suddenly. Eliot blinked in surprise. Where did that come from?_

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _When Nate was talking about taking this job. You said you were sick and tired of being on house arrest, that you didn't need us hovering or mother-henning you. Did you hate being taken care of? Did you hate Sophie making you soup and changing your bandages, or Nate taking you to physical therapy or Hardison finding really awesome war movies to watch or me -" Parker broke off there but Eliot got the rest of the picture._

Did you hate me lying there with you?

 _For a minute, Eliot was silent. He didn't think Parker would have really taken those words to heart. Seriously, he was Eliot Spencer. He was always snarky, always grouchy, always snapping at them for one thing or another. He was the lone wolf of the group. That was who he was, that was is character. But maybe something had changed over the last few months…maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought._

 _Eliot stood from where he sat and walked over to Parker, who was frozen in place, no emotion evident on her face._

 _"_ _Parker." Eliot said. "I could never hate you."_

 _It was all he said. But it was enough. Everything else could wait until they weren't in the middle of a serious con, but right now, just those few words were enough to make Parker break into the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Parker leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly to his cheek, and as she pulled away, she whispered,_

 _"_ _If I'm Batman, does that make you Robin?"_

* * *

Eliot knew he and Parker would have to talk about everything at some point. Or maybe not. Neither of them were big on talking about personal feelings…but somehow, Eliot didn't mind the thought of really talking to Parker. Maybe she'd help him figure out what the hell was wrong with him…

"And now," a voice came through the speakers as the swingy song ended, and the dancer Eliot had barely noticed sashayed off the stage, "coming to the _Ladies Choice_ stage for the first time, give a warm welcome to….SILVER!"

And there was Parker in that damn lingerie and Eliot watched with greedy eyes as she swung around that pole, as she whipped her hair around her face and flashed the crowd a convincing smile, making the sleazy men go absolutely wild over her. Eliot glanced back to where he knew his teammates were and was unsurprised to see the absolute shock on their faces - Hardison looked like he was having a bit of trouble containing himself as it was. Sophie looked appalled, but there was a bit of pride in her expression too. Eliot returned his eyes to appraise Parker's lithe build, his drink forgotten and he settled back to enjoy his surveillance.

In a few minutes, the real con would start, and it would invariably hit a snag when a new buyer came into the picture, offering more money than Hardison could get at the last second. A little later, they'd be off trying to rescue sixteen young girls from Simon Nichols' trafficking ring, headed for a plane bound for Barbados, and they'd put the bloody bastard (Sophie's words, but, no pun intended, Eliot fully planned on beating him bloody) in either a body cast or a prison cell (either which was fine by Eliot, though the body cast was much more tempting). And after that, maybe Eliot and Parker would talk or she would watch him train or he would buy her cookies and they'd be back to normal.

And a little while after that, Sophie would give each of the men of Leverage a hard head slap for the way they kept drooling over Parker in her stripper outfit, but it would be worth it because while Parker might have sucked at small talk and flirting and every other social interaction on the goddamn planet….she sure could strip.


End file.
